Anders

Ha! Crow on the first try. Nothing like stress and high emotions to make magic work. Well, except for those times when it refuses to. Irony was a good defense against the emotions that were going to be very unpleasant when they caught up to him. But for now, every beat of his wings took him further away from seeing exactly how much Lucy still loved her once dead, but now very much alive, lover.

And sure, he knew exactly what it would cost her to have to decide between them. She'd warned him in the Deep Roads that first time they had really kissed.

"It would tear me in two. I couldn't let Zevran go."

Back then, he'd been so certain that the future would take care of itself. He let his own impulses blind him to what she had been saying. And yes, the future did take care of itself, for a while. He simply hadn't counted on his predecessor rising from the dead.

I'm so bloody, stinking noble. I took it on myself to make the decision to go so she wouldn't have to. Congratulations, Zevran, you got the girl. Oh, and by the way, you're disturbingly hot as a woman.

He silenced his train of thought and flew, simply concentrating on the sound his wings made beating the air.

Now what?

The thoughts came back in another torrent. He could just keep flying and be out of Ferelden altogether in a few days. Or… there was always the Ferelden Circle.

Ha! Wouldn't it be a pisser if I just show up and knock on the door. Hi, it's me, Anders. I don't know if you recall me… Oh, you do? Yes, well, I was wondering if I might come back and uh… study a bit. Do some research on darkspawn magic, that sort of thing. Can I have my old bedroom back? No… not the one in the bottom level of the dungeon, the other one. Yes, that one, with the little brick you can move out of the way to look right into the female apprentices' bathing room. Right! That's the one. The one I shared with Karl.

His old roommate had gone along with the game, peeking through the hole and spying on the girls, but his true interest had been in Anders. It had taken awhile, but eventually Karl had expanded the horizons of the ever curious Anders. There came a time when Anders stopped moving the loose brick to peek at the girls and he wondered if he ever would again, but the next escape attempt ended that episode of his life.

Whatever happened to Karl? He hadn't seen him since his last, and ultimately successful, escape. He felt guilty. He should have at least written, if nothing else. Maybe Karl could help him deal with this.

His mind settled as his wings beat through the air. Beat. Beat. Beat. Glide. He began to learn the most efficient way of flying and covering distances. There were pockets of warmer air that carried him aloft, and he began to learn how to find them. The physical task of flying engaged his mind and senses, but only until the next flurry of thoughts arrived.

If I'd stayed could we have worked it out?

Obviously Lucy and Zevran had been involved in a triangle before, but that had been different. She and Zevran had been lovers, as had Zevran and Riordan, then Lucy and Riordan. From there it was a short step to a bed shared by all three of them. This was different. They were complete strangers. Not even Anders was adventurous enough to suggest such an arrangement with someone he didn't know.

The urge to seek out Karl grew. If anyone would understand, it was him. Whatever there had been between Anders and Karl, there was still a strong friendship.

He turned his beak northwest and headed to the Circle tower.

Zevran

When a rat drowns it ceases swimming and slips under the water quietly. There is little fuss about it. You hardly notice how still the water had become until one day you remember there had been a rat swimming.

Until an hour ago, he'd been at the end of his reserves. He was going to slip away, like the rat, but a kiss had finally put an end to the struggle that had started more than a year ago.

The woman he loved, the one he fought for in Antiva, was in his arms, plastered against his chest, her arms wrapped possessively about his waist, and soaking the dress he'd worn that evening with her tears. "Amore, I am sorry. It is my fault he left. I will help you find him, then I will leave, yes? A simple solution."

The words left his mouth out of a sense of duty, not out of any desire for this outcome. The woman sobbing in his arms was crying from both happiness and loss. She shook her head violently, unable to form a coherent sentence yet.

"I thought you were de-eh-eh-eh…" The sentence trailed off into more gulping, heart-wrenching sobs.

"Shhhh, shhhhh, Lucia. I am here. Do you want me to stay?"

This time his answer was violent nodding.

"All right, I will stay, mia cara." He held her, stroking her hair until her sobs finally quieted and she looked up at him with swollen, red eyes.

"I promised the Maker I'd devote my life to spreading the Chant if he would just return you. I'd better go take my vows tomorrow morning," she said, managing a weak smile.

He chuckled and tweaked a lock of her hair. "Ah, I'm sure he is used to such empty promises."

"From me, definitely." She wiped her sleeve across her nose and rubbed the last of the tears off her cheeks. "Besides, the bastard doesn't give anything for free." She sat upright and her face looked about to crumble into tears again.

"No," Zevran agreed. "No, he certainly doesn't. It seems you've lost as much as you've gained."

"I told Anders once, before I found out you were dead, that I'd never leave you. I said if you came back—I knew I would fall in love with him. I wouldn't let myself get too close to him. Then those Antivans came and gave me the necklace with a little of the Joining blood in it. I lost it, Zev. I didn't think I could hold it together and deal with all that darkspawn crap, but he kept me from falling apart."

Guilt nipped at his heels, like a mean little dog. His return had made her both happy and miserable. "You love him." Well, that was obvious. What wasn't obvious was how to deal with it.

She nodded and her lip quivered. "I'm sorry."

"Tut, tut." He pulled her back to him again. "Don't apologize. These things happen, no? Two Wardens drawn together in a dangerous time. Sounds familiar doesn't it?"

"It is, and isn't. I think when he took over my body to heal himself, it linked us together in a way neither of us realized," she said. Her eyes focused far away and her brows gathered together again.

Zevran stiffened and pushed his long, black hair out of the way, gaining a moment to think. "What was that again, amore? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"Oh, of course. You wouldn't know about that." Lucy sat up and held Zevran's hands in hers. "He was mortally wounded and the only one skillful enough to heal him was, well, him. So I went into the Fade and we were going to switch bodies, but it didn't work. We both ended up with our consciousness in my body. I put myself to sleep and he was able to take over and heal himself."

"Brasca, Lucia!" Zevran swore. "What if things had gone wrong? Such a risk!"

She was silent for a moment. "I couldn't not try."

"There's a lot you should probably know. Things didn't go as planned while you were gone. The darkspawn, my untrained Wardens, the various conspiracies, oh, and stupid Fergus Cousland." She settled back into his arms. "Did I mention that Anders saw me naked the first day we met?"

"Amore? That's forward, even for you," he teased her.

A sad smile spread over her face. "He delivered Danny my first night in Amaranthine. Right after the first darkspawn attack."

An abbreviated story of her past year spilled out and Zevran listened attentively while coiling tendrils of her hair around his fingers. There was a flood of feelings: anger that he hadn't been on-hand to protect her, relief that she survived, and yes, jealousy that Anders had been the one to give her comfort.

"What about you, Zev? Tell me what happened in Antiva," she asked as she finished her own abridged story.

He shook his head. "I am no longer a Crow. That is the only important thing." He had no desire to relive any part of his year in Antiva. It was a part of his past he would happily wipe from his memory if he could. The past year was brutal even by Crow standards. The violent memories had seeded his brain with their corrosive rot. He only hoped they would wither and die before spreading like a gangrenous infection.

She looked at him, a little puzzlement in her expression. He could see questions forming, ones he didn't want to answer. "What will happen to this mage of yours, Lucia?" The question successfully deflected her from asking them.

"I'm not sure, Zev. He's… something of a radical. He might decide to take on the Chantry and fight for mage rights. It's always been a dream of his. I think living with me and Danny domesticated him. Maybe he will go back to the Wardens in Amaranthine. He had friends at the Circle he talked about visiting too. I wish he hadn't just left like that!"

Zevran got up from the divan and strode to the fireplace. The flames were beginning to die down, so he grabbed the poker to tend to it, buying time to think. She will heal, in time. I can make her forget the mage. It was a selfish thought, but he acknowledged it and owned it. Yet he could hear her sniffing and the gulping breaths that gave away that she was crying again. There wasn't a whole lot in the world that could melt Zevran's resolve quite like the tears of Lucy or Danny. Either of them crying made him want to assassinate sorrow. When Danny fell, skinning a knuckle, he wanted to remove the cobblestones the boy tripped over. Now Lucia weeping so inconsolably—He was the source of this sorrow, and if he had to set aside his jealousy and possessiveness to eradicate it, then he would do that. The least they could do would be to find this mage and try to work something out.

Of course, not the same arrangement they'd had with Riordan. Something like that could only happen once in a lifetime and only under such circumstances they'd found themselves, facing certain defeat and death. The rules of society get thrown out when you're convinced your life is ending soon. Ha! Rules of society. As if I cared. But if that was so, why this possessiveness now?

He stood up from where he squatted in front of the fire and turned to look at Lucy. She smiled at him, but the tears were still rolling down her face.

"We will find this mage of yours, Lucia," he said. "We can discuss whatever needs to be discussed, like the sensible people we are."

Her face lit up and she rubbed away the tears once again. "I don't know if it will make any difference, but all I want to do is talk to him. He didn't even say goodbye."

"Come, let's get a good night's sleep and in the morning we can head out. Iveta will take care of Danny, yes? You fly to Amaranthine and I'll ride to the Circle. We can ask along the way if anyone has seen him," he said.

"I warned him against staying in animal form for too long. I expect he might change back and stay at an inn. Maybe someone has seen him. I can fly to Amaranthine in a day and a bit. Well, more than that if I stop along the way to make inquiries."

"Sounds reasonable, although I am reluctant to be parted from you again. You always seem to find trouble." He smiled at her and wove a hand into her hair, behind her head, and moved his face closer to hers. "Now, amore. You seemed rather interested in kissing a girl. Do you want to?"

"I'd rather kiss you than Daniella," she said, moving so her lips were barely touching his. "I never thought I would again."

Just before they committed to a deep, lingering kiss that awoke memories for them both, his lips curled into a smile. This was his Lucia, exactly as he remembered. He would make this work, for both of them, for little Danny, too. Perhaps this family could help him forget Antiva.

Fergus

The guard on duty in the family quarters of Cousland castle dared smile as his teyrn strode down the hall, another example of impertinence. Fergus turned a sharp look on the guard but ignored the slight. Ever since Lucy, the creature masquerading as his sister, switched allegiances to Loghain, he'd been met with cheek like this. Father had had an affinity with the castle staff, but Fergus knew these smiles were simply smirks hiding the contempt even the drudges held for him. But since he'd had a serving man whipped for inappropriately laughing several days ago, there had been precious little smirking.

"No, my lord! I'd never laugh at you, ser. I have always esteemed the Couslands." The servant had pleaded and cowered. "The cook told a funny joke, Your Grace."

Perhaps, but it was time to set an example. A dozen lashes and the laughing, snickering, and sly smiles had stopped, at least amongst the castle staff. The Banns were another story. He could feel their derision as their eyes followed him. How many of them were plotting their own defections?

Oh yes, a few had come to him and dared to speak in hushed tones of Lucy's bold desertion and encouraged him to strike back, but as he watched their faces he wondered what duplicitous intent lay behind that advice. They would love nothing more than to see him crushed under the combined armies of Loghain and Alistair.

Then there were the Banns who acted like nothing had happened. What they could be up to, he could only imagine. At any social gathering with two people talking, the skin on the back of his neck prickled as he felt eyes watching him and tongues wagging. The whole lot of his Banns were conniving wretches. He had begun seriously rebuilding his military force with an eye toward quelling any further insurrection.

So, when one of his Banns, a fawning bootlicker if he ever met one, approached him, he was prepared to dismiss the man.

"Bann Friedewald, good to see you. I am afraid I'm a little short on time…" Fergus said, trying to maneuver his way past the man.

"Your Grace, a pleasure to see you again! I'm surprised to see you here, I must admit. I thought you might be out looking for the apostate mage that your sister seems to have misplaced."

The Bann's words almost flew past Fergus' ears without registering, but then he did remember hearing that his sister was living in Denerim with a former apostate, turned Grey Warden.

Fergus asked warily. "Why should I care?"

"Why indeed?" the Bann asked, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "I did over hear a most interesting conversation and witnessed something that quite startled me. But then again, she is your sister, so I'm sure it isn't news to you." He trailed off thoughtfully.

Fergus knew he was being baited, but his curiosity was also piqued. Already the thought occurred to him that if he could snatch the mage, he would have leverage over her. "Go on."

"I witnessed her walking out of a woods, without a mount, and stop to question a number of people. I interviewed them later to find out what she had been asking, and that is when I learned she was looking for her," he paused dramatically, "paramour, who goes by the name of Anders."

"All right, so she's carrying on with someone. Typical, for her, but hardly earth-shattering news." Fergus crossed his arms and looked sternly at the man. "Is there more?"

"Oh, Your Grace, is there ever! I saw her as she left the village. By this time I was following her. She went into the woods and I trailed after her, careful not to be seen. She turned around, looking to see if anyone could see her, and then," he gestured expansively with his hands, "she ducked behind a tree and disappeared." His eyes narrowed as he mused over the incident. "Witchery, I tell you! I followed her footprints and they just stopped right at the tree."

"Perhaps she saw you and climbed into the tree," Fergus said, already becoming bored by the man.

"No, no, my lord. I checked the tree and not even a lizard could have scrambled up that tree without my noticing it. I'm telling you there was magic at work. Your sister is a mage, did you even know that?"

"There are many things I don't know about my sister, apparently." Of course, Fergus knew the creature residing in his sister's body was a mage. "I trust there's a point to this discussion and you'll find it soon?"

Friedewald spoke low, in conspiratorial tones. "My lord, if your sister is a mage and she's looking for this paramour of hers, perhaps she might be trapped, like a rat sniffing after a piece of cheese. A display like the one I saw, in front of a templar, and no one could object to her arrest and trial. The Chantry looks dimly on forbidden magic and I'm fairly certain whatever she did to disappear from view was most likely forbidden."

The Bann had a point, Fergus had to admit. "I thought you said you didn't see anything."

"People don't just disappear, not without magic!"

"What exactly do you propose then?" Fergus asked. He was beginning to warm to the idea but he kept up the pretense of disinterest.

"My bannorn lies on the outskirts of your territory. She may venture there, especially if she hears rumors leading her in that direction. Leave it me, my lord. I will have her."

Brushing his hand across his five o'clock shadow, Fergus considered the proposal. "Friedewald, if you can pull this off, I'll reward you, of course."

"Of course, my liege. There is something in particular." The Bann trailed off as if he were too shy to ask his boon. Fergus knew better than to imagine that Friedewald was in any way too timid. "The Bann bordering mine is sorely mismanaged. I should think they're behind in paying their taxes. It wouldn't be unreasonable to confiscate some of their lands and put them under the management of someone more…competent."

"I'm sure that's reasonable." At least, Fergus hoped it was. At the moment he couldn't recall whose lands those would be. His seneschal could confirm that later.

Bowing deeply, Bann Friedewald excused himself.

Fergus watched the man's retreating back and allowed himself to imagine, for a few glorious moments, his un-sister being caught, tried, and executed. The left side of his mouth twisted into a sadistic smile while a sharp thrill rolled up his spine. The thought of watching Lucy hang was oddly arousing. He strode to the stables and waited impatiently for the groom to ready his mount. It had been a while since he'd seen the whore Aileen. He wondered if she could still do that thing with her mouth.

~o~o~o~

Notes: Sorry about the title, but the only other one I could come up with was "Torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool...". Damn, now I have that song stuck in my head.

Trying to get back into the discipline of writing for a good chunk every night. It takes a while to ramp back up to that level of dedication. I'm getting better about it! It helps not having so much time carved out of my schedule for things like physical therapy.

Many thanks to Biff for beta-reading! She's got a great Mass Effect story you should read. Also, major thanks to Zevgirl and Biff for help with this chapter, in particular with Zevran.

If all goes well, the next update shouldn't take so long. I've even started it already, but I had to come back and rewrite part of this.

Thanks to all those who reviewed! Zevgirl, Biff McLaughlin, Shi, Jenna53, Arsinoe de Blassenville, 1Scarylady, xKimathyx, Isala Uthenera, KatDancer2 – You are all awesome!