Whew, long chapter. Be sure you've got a snack or something to get you through it. :P

Nathaniel pulled back sharply, and the departure of his lips from hers was even more jarring than the unexpected meeting. His face had gone a ghastly shade of gray, and his eyes were the size of dinner plates.

Sigrun didn't imagine hers, as she stared at him, were exactly normal-sized right now, either.

And why should they be? Nathaniel had just…just…

…kissed her.

She hadn't seen him in so long it felt like forever. It wasn't until he'd appeared that she'd realized how bothered she'd been by his absence. Seeing him ease out of the jungle had made her heart hiccup in her chest, and his physical condition had just made her start shouting. Angry words to cover up the fear and concern that spiked inside her.

And then he'd….kissed her.

What was even more surprising was that she didn't want to punch him for it. Far from it. In fact-

"Though I am at loathe to interrupt what is sure to be an entertaining conversation, perhaps we should move to camp," Zevran said, his voice filled with suggestion.

And that was when the former legionnaire remembered that she and Nathaniel weren't exactly alone.

She gritted her teeth as she felt blood start thumping in her temples. Whatever showed on her face must not have been pretty, as Nathaniel's color took a steep dive from gray to white.

"Come, come, my friends," Zevran cajoled. "It's not far."

The group started, reluctantly, moving along. Sigrun stood her ground, allowing everyone to pass them until she and Nathaniel were actually a bit alone. Her lips were still tingling pleasantly, and her face felt cold, as if his lack of proximity left her skin chilled. An unexpected giddy rush swam through her head, and she hastily slammed a lid on it. This was not the time to become…girly.

Narrowing her eyes, she got a touch of viscous satisfaction at his apprehensive look. "Are you planning on explaining that?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he answered. "Yes, of course. I-"

"Not now," she interrupted, putting up a hand to halt his words. "You've got to talk to the King, and you've got to teach Leliana your shadow ability, right?"

He nodded mutely.

"All right. Then when there's time, later, you're going to explain yourself." Pulling away from the sudden urge to shrink the distance between them, Sigrun started walking in the direction everyone else had. "Oh, and Nathaniel?" she added, turning to look over her shoulder at him.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice oozing misery.

"Make sure it's a good explanation," she said sternly. She paused then, wondering where she was getting the guts to say this. It was a terrible idea, and yet it was coming out of her mouth anyway. "That is…if you want to kiss me again."

His tentative, answering smile made her heart hiccup again.

"Your Majesty!"

Lorelai's head snapped up, and her body protested the jerky movement. Apparently she'd been dozing, but the dreamless sleep the drug forced on her always made waking up disorienting. Let alone when she was woken up by an insistent voice.

Heaving her much-larger-than-she-felt-necessary bulk to her feet, Lorelai shuffled her way to the door. Once there, she remembered to give nothing away until she knew exactly who it was. "Hello?" she answered, trying to sound as unsure as possible. If this was a trap, she didn't want to sound like she was expecting anyone.

"It's Keep, Your Majesty."

Lorelai let out a sigh of relief, and pressed as much of herself against the door as she could. She knew that she knew nothing about this man, but the iota of comfort she derived from him was invaluable. Even if this turned out to be betrayal later…at this moment, it was all she had to hold on to.

"Thank you for the bath," she whispered to him.

"It worked?" he asked, and then laughed dryly. "Imagine that, he actually listened to me. I must have scolded and shouted at him for an hour, at least. When he left, he gave the distinct impression I could go drown in the nearest bucket. I never thought he'd actually-" He stopped, taking a deep breath. "Anyway, I'm glad I could do something for you. My other task of gathering information hadn't been going so well, so I thought-"

"'Hadn't'?" Lorelai repeated, interrupting him. He didn't answer right away, and in that pause, the Warden felt icy claws squeeze the back of her neck. "Keep?"

"It's not good, my Queen," he murmured.

"Not telling me doesn't make it any…less true," she responded, her hands curling into fists.

"Grady is not in charge. He never was. He just thinks he is."

All of her breath gusted out, and she had a moment's difficulty pulling in another lungful. "Tell me," she whispered after a few moments.

"These aren't all Grady's men. They're hired, and they aren't concerned with Grady or his insane cause. They just want their coin. None very bright, but they don't need to be, do they?" he laughed bitterly. "I had some of Grady's men with me to start making this ruin livable, and the rest were the ones who abducted you. Now, I'm the only one left."

"Where are the others?" she demanded frantically. She held no love for those men obviously, since they'd captured her. But suddenly, faced with either Grady's men or mercenaries…she found herself instinctually longing for the former.

"Dead," Keep answered bluntly. "All of Grady's men have been slowly dying 'accidental' deaths. Plenty of staircases in this hunk of stone to fall down if you're not paying attention." There was a stretch of silence. "The only reason I figure I'm still alive is because of the distance I've put between myself and Grady. Since the muscle isn't smart, and I've blended into the background, they've probably forgotten about me."

"Grady hasn't noticed?"

"Grady's too delusional to notice," Keep growled. "Oh, he sees the deaths, grieves appropriately for his fallen men, and then moves on. He's blinded by his motivations."

"Whoever hired the mercenaries…is in charge," Lorelai said as her mind filled in the blanks.

"Yes. Grady did not get these thugs. I'm sure you've noticed he has certain…ethics. He'll not turn down the manpower they're providing, but he didn't get them himself. He may be deranged but-" Lorelai heard something that sounded suspiciously like he'd banged his head against the door. "It gets worse," he said miserably.

"It always does," she replied, though her heart beat a bit faster. When in a mess like this, there was always worse.

"I don't know who hired the mercenaries. No one mentions him by name. But I finally got the real plan out of a few of the men." He took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, I…"

"Keep," she said, as firmly as she could, "you're not making this…better."

"The mercenaries were hired to kill you and the King once he arrives. Then, they will be paid. Maker only knows where their mysterious master is getting the funds to pay them all. There was quite a lot of pirate's loot when we got here, but…"

Lorelai closed her eyes for a moment as Keep continued talking, swallowing hard. Well, it wasn't really a surprise. Though they were enemies with none of their fellow countries at the moment, she could see many of them willing to profit from a Ferelden in anarchy.

That didn't keep the fear from spreading through her body like a disease. Oh, Andraste, she had put her love on the throne. If she had just been content to remain just Wardens, none of this would be happening-

She bit her lip until she drew blood, forcing the thoughts away. It would help nothing to wish to redo the past. And she didn't really wish to change her mind; it was just the fear talking. Now it was time for the fear to shut up.

"There's an awful lot of men here…for an assassination," she remarked, her anxiety making her tongue slow again. "I mean, I'm flattered…and all, but it seems…overkill."

Overkill. She nearly let out a hysterical giggle.

"Your husband has quite the reputation, as do you. But I know," Keep answered. "I guess he has that kind of money."

Another country would have that kind of money. Especially one that made it a national pastime to meddle in international affairs. "Why did he need Grady?"

"I honestly have no idea." He snorted. "Maybe he's getting a kick out of his fanaticism, and he'll get an even bigger kick out of watching Grady's face when he learns of your fate." There was a heavy pause. "Maybe this isn't about you, at all. Maybe it's about Grady."

"A bit elaborate, don't you think?" she said with a small smile.

"You're right. Although I do know for a fact that it would kill Grady to know he had a hand in your death. Remember the strange ethics?"

Lorelai thought back to the night when Grady had killed one of his own men for her. "Yes, I remember."

"Irrelevant, unfortunately. The point is your life is in danger, and Grady's petition to the King for him to come retrieve you in exchange for relinquishing the crown is a trap."

"Grady's sent the message to Denerim already?"

"The only time I've seen him recently was to demand he allow you that bath," Keep said. "Since my outburst on your arrival, he hasn't exactly been confiding in me. I would assume it's been sent."

Lorelai winced. "And you can't risk trying to…convince him that he's being played. He'd most likely ignore…you, and it would draw attention…to the fact that you're loyal to him."

"Loyal to you," he corrected fervently. "Not to Grady. Not after this-" He choked to a stop. "I'll find a way to get the keys to your cell. I don't know who has them, but I'll find out. Grady only has them sometimes. I'll sneak you out. No one knows this wreck better than me; there are plenty of places to hide. We'll-"

"We'll what?" she whispered. "Even if we make it out of here…can you sail the ship by yourself? Because I certainly don't…know how."

A heavy pause. "If we wait for the King to get here, we'll escape to him. Run before the mercenaries have a chance to ready the attack."

This was ludicrous. Keep was going to get himself killed, and it wasn't necessary. "No," she said firmly, and Queen took the opportunity to stretch its authoritative legs. "The only thing you can do…is go out into the jungle…and wait for Alistair. Warn him about…the trap. The two of you can plan from…there."

"My lady, I'm not leaving you in here by yourself."

Lorelai shivered as she thought of the…man outside her door the night before. She couldn't tell Keep about it; he'd worry. "You have to."

"No!" he half-shouted, then hastily lowered his voice. "No. That's not an option."

She sighed at his stubbornness. "Keep-"

"Don't give up, my Queen," he hissed desperately. "Don't you dare."

Lorelai felt the sharp weight of defeat in her chest, but then her hands curled protectively around her stomach. Her muscles tightened swiftly, and her fingers flexed into claws. "I will not give up."

Zevran watched Leliana blend smoothly out of sight as the ocean swallowed up the last of the sun's rays. She appeared out of the shadows to his left, and her movement had been almost totally untraceable. Almost.

"Well, it's damn near perfect," Howe said, though his eyebrows were gathered together in a frown. He rubbed the stubble on his face and grimaced. "Makes me feel kind of pathetic that it took me so long to learn."

"Ah, bandage up your ego, my friend," the elf said warmly, patting the taller man on the shoulder. "Our Leliana is very talented."

"Many things I learned as a bard were not too far off from this, Nathaniel," Leliana added gently. "And besides, I couldn't have learned so quickly if it weren't for an excellent teacher." She batted her eyelashes for good measure.

Howe made a strangled sound in his throat, and Zevran hid a smile behind his hand. Leliana's charms were not for the faint of heart. "I wish I could go with you," he managed once his blush had died down.

"You are not meant for this line of work, Warden," Zevran reminded him for the hundredth time.

"I broke into Vigil's Keep just fine," he muttered, eyes on the ground.

Zevran took the opportunity to glance at those gorgeous elven ladies that had accompanied his friends. The brunette met him stare for hungry stare, while the blonde blushed prettily and gave him a little wave. The assassin felt his blood run hot as his vision momentarily doubled. Maker help him. None had been able to make his heart race like that for a long time.

"Yes, dear. But this is a bit different," Leliana told him, her eyes serious.

"Of course," Howe acknowledged, though he was clearly in the midst of an emotional wrestling match. He glanced around the camp, and quickly averted his eyes when they fell on the silhouette of Sigrun crouched by the fire.

Alistair joined them, the mage behind him with an impressive glower on his face. "Are you sure about this?" Alistair asked sharply.

"We must evaluate her confinement," Zevran said smoothly, his eyes and tone showing nothing but confidence. Alistair did not need to know the dangerousness of this task. "Now that Leliana and I can both perform the shadow ability adequately, we will be able to pick our way through that labyrinth to get to the keep itself."

The big man's face hardened. "Be careful, both of you. If anything-" He bit his tongue, and took a shaking breath. "Be careful," he repeated.

"Of course, darling," Leliana said lightly. "Zev and I will not allow anything to happen to the other, will we, dear heart?"

Ah, she was such a marvelous actress. Her manipulations ran so deep that if he were not of the profession he was, he'd have been sucked under just as easily as the rest of them had been. "Of course not, my crimson-haired flower."

Zevran gleefully watched the mage's face go from red to purple. If he'd known it would've been this much fun tormenting Leliana's beaus, he would have introduced himself to every single one of them.

"Go brood over there, Alistair," Leliana said, waving her hand at him. "And you two, as well. Nathaniel, Anders."

Nathaniel left obediently with the King, while the mage stood his ground. "I don't like this," he ground out from between his teeth.

"We talked about this, Anders," Leliana said firmly. "Lorelai needs us, and you cannot keep me in a glass bubble."

"Sure I can," he retorted. "Just give me a minute to figure out how to make one and-"

"Anders," she interrupted. "I will come back."

He mumbled something under his breath that Zevran couldn't catch, but Leliana stepped forward gracefully and pressed her lips to the mage's cheek, which seemed to shock the Warden completely.

"Ready, my precious ruby?" the former Crow asked, just to instigate a little bit more. Maker, he was a cruel man.

Leliana turned to him, and her eyes told him she knew what he was doing, and that he'd better get it all out of his system soon, because she wasn't going to tolerate it much longer. He gave her a minute nod: message received.

The mage glared at him with jealously and anger bordering on hatred. Stalking over in a swirl of robes, he looked down at Zevran. "If anything happens to her, so help me Andraste, I'll hold you personally responsible."

"Personally?" Zevran's lip curled up in a sneer. "Oh, that is a grave charge. I will be sure to take my partner's safety a great deal more seriously."

The mage's eyes flashed, and his fingers tightened on his staff until his knuckles went white.

"That's enough!" Leliana hissed, grabbing the mage by the back of his robes and yanking him off balance. "Behave like a pair of boys fighting over the same toy after Lorelai is safe!"

Zevran bowed to his companion. "Forgive me, darling."

"Sorry," the mage answered.

"Let's go, Zev," she snapped, grabbing him by his sleeve and dragging him away from camp. When they were out of earshot, she whispered as they walked, "You're unbelievable."

"Am I?" was his arch reply.

Even in the darkness, he could see the smile on her lips. "No, you're not. You're very believable."

"Oh, excellent. For a moment there, I had been concerned that I'd surprised you with my behavior. There should be no surprises in a relationship like ours. Bad for business, you know."

She rolled her eyes, but grinned. "No, but be kinder, Zev. I…like him."

"I see," he said gravely. "This is very serious. He has not discussed his intentions for you with me. As your guardian, I take mighty offense to this."

Leliana gave him a forceful shove in the shoulder, knocking him into a nearby tree. "I mean it, Zevran. Be kinder."

"Of course, my red-winged nightingale."

"To the task at hand?" she asked as she wrapped a black scarf around her tell-tale red hair, seemingly satisfied with his response.

He nodded…and the game began in earnest.

Zevran blended into the shadows like Howe had taught him as Leliana's slim figure melted away before his eyes. Only the years he'd spent by her side let him sense her presence as they made their way toward the gauntlet of crumbling rock that stood between them and the fortress. Between them and Lorelai.

The elf clenched his fists, banishing all thoughts of their friend from his mind. If he thought of her, he would be lost to worry and anger. And if he thought of her, he'd also think of her husband's desperate face, and he'd succumb to doubt so strong it would shatter his bones. He could feel it, scratching at the edge of his spine, plaintively whispering for acknowledgement.

He had absolutely zero intention of doing that.

Blanking his mind, he thought of nothing but the shadows. The fortress as an end goal disappeared to be replaced with the simple goal of reaching the next shadow. And the next. And the next.

Zevran lost himself to the play of light against darkness, to patches of all-encompassing black.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, leaning against the wall. The Arl's estate was a never-ending maze of rooms, but she hadn't been hard to find.

Lorelai spun around swiftly, her face pale, eyes wide. "Do I…what?"

"Do you feel better?" Zevran asked again. "Now that the man who killed your family is dead by your hand."

Her body tensed as if to flee, and her hands snapped into fists by her sides. "It doesn't bring them back, does it?" she whispered.

"I did not ask that. I asked if it made you feel better." When she stared at him in agony, he added softly, "You do not need to lie to me, Warden. Your darkness does not frighten me."

Still she stared at him. Perhaps he had been wrong, thinking he'd found a unique way to help this woman who had been kind enough to give him a second chance, and yet strong enough to keep him in line. A leader worth following.

He turned to leave her in peace.

"Yes," she called out. The former Crow faced her again, and her body was more relaxed, less wary. "I know it doesn't bring them back, but-"

"You do not need to explain it to me, Warden. I understand."

"Zev."

He gasped, letting his weight sag against the solid wall of the fortress, then he swore viciously. So much for not thinking about her. But it was over; they'd made it to the fortress. He craned his head back, and the height of the wall vanished into the sky above them.

Now to find a way in.

They were looking for nothing in particular. Just a weakness in the obviously dilapidated structure, a crumbling that allowed infiltration. There was no guarantee of anything of the sort, but in the elf's experience, there was always something. No building was perfect, even in peak condition.

An immeasurable amount of time passed before he heard Leliana's soft gasp from somewhere ahead of him. He met up with her, and her delighted grin warmed his heart. "Now you see me," she chirped, "now you don't." And she slid through the fissure in the outer wall into darkness.

The Antivan smiled and shook his head. This was why he adored her so. Only Leliana could make a daring, nigh-impossible reconnaissance and/or rescue mission resemble a children's game of hide-and-seek. It was a good thing, too, for the doubt still scrambled behind him, now clawing at the back of his neck. Her playful joy allowed him to keep it at bay.

He followed her lead, and eased through the breech.

If he'd thought the moat of ruined half-walls had been a labyrinth, he was sorely mistaken. This was a labyrinth. Zevran could sense it pressing down on him, making him heavier, slower. Like the floor plan was laid out before his eyes, he could almost see the countless rooms.

He wanted to moan in despair.

Leliana gave his hand a sharp tug, and in the darkness he could feel her insistent stare. He took a deep breath and shook himself. Keep hold of his emotions, remember his training.

Up, his instincts whispered. In a place like this, a hostage would be higher, not lower.

So up they went, Zevran in the lead, Leliana guarding the back. He let his Crow teaching guide him; pull him to where he would put a hostage in this maze of black rock. All the while mentally noting the turns they were taking, the choices being made by his feet. He knew Leliana was doing the same behind him.

After all, they wouldn't be much use if they couldn't find their back way out, would they?

A few groups of men passed by them, but they always had plenty of warning to find a quick spot to disappear into. Windows were sporadic, leaving plenty of shadows to immerse themselves in. The men were noisy and unaware of their surroundings. Sloppy. Lazy. Comfortable.

Zevran felt a feral smile crease his lips. He planned to exploit their every weakness, and they were making it so easy.

His feet stuttered to a stop at a heavy wooden door. The lock on the outside was a bulky lump of metal, made for serious business. Southeast side of the building, as far as he could tell. The assassin's nerves hummed like they were too close to a fire.

Here. She was here.

Stepping to the side, he gave Leliana a courtly bow, gesturing with a flourish to the lock. She was better at this than he was. He would most likely damage it, whereas the bard would leave it in the pristine condition they found it in.

Leliana carefully removed her lock-picking kit as she crouched in front of the door, and Zevran closed his eyes. He stilled his mind, listening to the soothing, minute clicks as the Orlesian sought to free the locking mechanism. It was a sound he could listen to for hours, which of course was counterintuitive, since the longer those sounds went on, the more trouble they were in, generally speaking.

The satisfyingly loud clonk came, and Zevran opened his eyes as Leliana drew a calming breath. She looked to him, and he nodded. Rising to her feet, she lifted the latch and pushed the door open.

Meager starlight splashed high across one wall through an annoyingly high, annoyingly thin window. The rest of the room was shielded in blackness, and looked empty.

But it wasn't. He felt it in the fibers of his muscles.

Leliana clicked the door shut behind him, and he whispered into the seemingly empty room. "Warden?"

There was a startled movement from the darkness, possibly from a corner. "Z-Zevran?" answered an astonished, barely audible voice.

Leliana darted past him in a flash, knocking him in the shoulder and forcing him to stumble a few paces forward. Good thing, too, since the sound of her voice had turned his feet to stone, had fractured his heart. The rawness, the brittleness. The fragility.

The bard had vanished into the shadows on the opposite side of the room. "We're here, darling," he heard her say.

"Leliana?" The name was spoken like a prayer, and cracked with tears at the end.

"Of course, you great silly thing," Leliana answered, her own voice sounding a bit too delicate for Zevran's tastes. "Did you think we wouldn't come for you?"

"I…I…" The voice trailed off, and she took a thick breath. "Alistair. Where is he? Is he…all right? Is he-?"

"Questions, questions," Leliana chided. "He's fine. I took good care of him for you. He's here, hiding in the jungle with the rest."

"Who-?"

Leliana rattled off the names of their allies slowly, giving time for the names to sink in, for the help to sink in.

"How?" she asked, sounding a bit dazed.

"The vultures, dear. Your brilliant, ugly masterpiece."

She laughed thickly. "Zevran?" she called.

Cursing himself for his lack of movement, for allowing his emotions to paralyze him, he crossed the room swiftly. He entered the shadows the two women inhabited, and as his eyes adjusted, his blood roared through his chest in a deafening roar.

Her clothes were a tattered mess, her hair a long mass. A detached part of his brain knew it had been over five years, so the length of her hair shouldn't be such a shock. It somehow made her more vulnerable to him, less of the feisty Cousland girl she'd been when they'd met.

But it was her face that quickened his heartbeat and had him unconsciously fingering his daggers. Haggard and drawn. Fearful and wane. Filled with naked relief.

Alistair could not see this. The man's bloodlust would be insatiable.

Zevran's own was reaching new heights with every breath.

She was cradled against Leliana's chest, her arms wrapped tightly around the bard, her limbs shaking. When Lorelai saw him looking down at her, she reached out with her nearest hand. Her lips were trembling, her eyes pleading, tears streaking down her cheeks.

He took her hand, and dropped to his knees more than knelt on purpose. Bending his head forward, he kissed her hand. "My Queen," he said quietly.

A tear-filled laugh bubbled out of her mouth. "Only you would call me that at a time like this."

He pressed her hand to his chest. "It is an appropriate time, no?"

She laughed again, but quickly sobered, burying her face into Leliana's neck. "Zevran, they…gave me something. I can't move well…and talking is hard…" the more she spoke, the more worked up she got, her voice rising in pitch, "and I can't…sense any animals." The last word was almost a sob.

Leliana looked at him sharply over the Warden's head.

Zevran gestured with his free hand. "Come here, you beautiful, scandalous woman," he said lightly. "I will not breathe a word to your husband; you know I am very discreet."

The bard passed the archer into his arms gently. He hugged her sideways, her right shoulder into his chest, for a moment before tilting her face up with a finger beneath her chin. "Open your mouth, there's a good Queen."

He inhaled deeply as her breath brushed against his cheeks. A note of recognition chimed lightly in his head at the scent. Yes, he'd thought as much. "Ranger's Reins," he told her. "That is what they've given you."

"Is it…permanent? Is it…hurting me?"

Zevran's eyebrows knotted together at the second question, which seemed strange. "No, it will simply wear off. It is only affecting your mind. It is meant solely to crush your ranger senses; the rest is a side effect. You walk like a marionette with cut strings because your brain cannot tell your legs what to do, not because there's anything wrong with your legs."

Lorelai noticeably relaxed against him at his words. Leliana glared as she said, "Someone knew she was a ranger."

"It's fairly common knowledge," he answered, though the protest sounded weak even to him. "The archer ranger Queen of Ferelden."

The bard shook her head. "No. This is too personal."

Lorelai shifted, sitting up slightly. "Listen. Listen, I've got to tell you…"

And so she did. As she talked, Zevran couldn't stop the horror from growing in his gut. Followed closely by burning rage.

"Anora?" Leliana spat. "I will slit that bitch's throat myself!"

"No, no. Wait," Lorelai said, reaching for the red-head's hand. "There's more."

And so there was.

Leliana swore colorfully, and Zevran wished he had the breath to do the same. It seemed all his air needed to be kept for breathing properly at the moment. Trap. Assassination. The throne. Mercenaries. Money. It was a mess.

"We have to get you out, right now," Leliana said. "We met hardly anyone on our way up here; you can come with us the way we came."

Lorelai started shaking her head, and Zevran couldn't help but agree. Ranger's Reins would make her about as stealthy as her armor-clad husband. And without the shadow ability he and Leliana had learned from Howe, she'd be unable to blend into the crevices should they encounter another miscellaneous group. Let alone through the gauntlet once they were out of the fortress.

But he felt Leliana's desperation, too. The sooner they got her out of here, the better.

"Yes, Lorelai," Leliana was whispering fiercely. "This is too dangerous. We've got to-"

The Warden continued to shake her head fervently. "Can't."

"This 'Ranger's Reins'," she snorted derisively, "can't be that bad. We don't have to hide. We'll just kill anyone we see along the way. By the time they find the bodies, we'll be-"

"Can't," the brunette hissed fiercely. She leaned forward and snatched Leliana's hand, pressing it against her abdomen.

The bard's face filled with dawning horror, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. "Oh, Lorelai," she moaned.

"What?" demanded Zevran, the look on Leliana's face driving a spike of ice through his ribs that nearly stole his breath.

Lorelai grabbed his hand and placed it next to Leliana's, a frantic sigh leaving her lips. "Can't," she reiterated firmly.

"Merciful Andraste," Zevran whispered, his hand splayed out against her rounded belly. Her rounded, pregnant belly.

"Did they do this to you?" Leliana's voice was barely above a breath. "Did these…men," she choked on the word, and didn't finish the sentence.

"No," she said, smiling and patting the bard's hand reassuringly. "I swear. It's…Alistair's. Right before I left."

It seemed insane that she was the one being reassuring right now. Zevran's shocked brain moved slowly. "That is why you asked if Ranger's Reins was hurting you physically, yes?"

She nodded, pulling her eyes away from the stricken bard. "Will it hurt…the baby?"

"No," he answered numbly. "It shouldn't. I have no experience of someone in your condition being drugged with it…but no, I wouldn't think so."

She sighed. "Guess that's the best I'm…going to get." Her eyes widened suddenly, and a split second later, Zevran felt her flesh shift and bulge under his hand. He snatched it away in surprise.

"Oh, Maker!" Leliana gasped, her eyes filling with astonishment.

"Get your hand back…over here…you sissy!" Lorelai demanded with a laugh, and seized his hand again to press it firmly against her stomach. The movement came again, and Lorelai half-laughed, half-cried.

"Strong legs on this one," Leliana said, a semi-hysterical giggle slicing through her words.

Strong, indeed. Zevran, now that the surprise had faded, found himself utterly compelled by the erratic movement under Lorelai's skin. To feel that life inside of her shift and change positions. It brought a strange, heavy sensation to his limbs and chest. Imagine what it would feel like if the child were his?

He nearly gagged. Alistair…

"You will not tell him," Lorelai growled thickly, her dark eyes fixed on the elf.

She had seen his reaction painted across his face.

"Lorelai," Leliana began slowly.

"No," she argued. "No discussion. No debate. He would…lose it. Do something reckless. You swear to me right now that…you will not tell him."

"Lorelai," Leliana tried again.

"Swear it!" the Warden snapped.

"We swear," Zevran answered, ignoring the horrified look on Leliana's face. After enduring Lorelai's ferocious gaze for a few more moments, the bard dropped her eyes and nodded in miserable surrender.

"Well," Leliana said briskly after a lengthy silence, "just think, you won't have to worry about carrying the baby around too much. We'll just strap it to that giant mabari of yours and-"

"What?"

Her outburst startled them both, especially Zevran, since the woman was still sort of in his lap. "I was just joking," Leliana said unsurely, "since Jacob's so big…"

Lorelai's face crumbled, and tears fell from her eyes. "He's-"

"He lives," Zevran interrupted, his mind racing to everything Howe had told him in their time spent waiting and training in shadow. "Anders saved him when they came to look for you." He grabbed her shoulders tightly. "Jacob lives."

Lorelai stared at him, then at Leliana, who nodded encouragingly, then back at Zevran.

The Queen of Ferelden buried her face against the assassin's chest, and quietly sobbed tears of joy.