A/N - Writing this chapter has put me in an amorous mood :) In that spirit, I would like to extend my love to my wonderful readers, especially to those who have taken the time to share their support and thoughts through their reviews, favorites and follows. And to Eve Hawke, my incredibly talented and patient beta, I send enthusiastic hugs and kisses for your help on this chapter :D

Zoya had never been in a brothel before, had never suspected she might find herself in one, and wasn't terribly excited about going into one now. The young elves who left the Alienage to work at the Pearl generally didn't return home to share tales. Maybe they didn't come back because they were ashamed of their new trade, or perhaps their new life was better in some way than their old; Zoya couldn't begin to guess.

The devout Andrastians among her people viewed sex outside of marriage to be a sin against the Maker, so a son or daughter who worked in a brothel would be a source of tremendous shame. Zoya knew that her father would be furious if he knew she was spending her afternoon at the Pearl, and with a human apostate no less. But her discomfort wasn't with prostitution itself; she wasn't terribly devout after all and she figured that what consenting adults did in private was none of the Chantry's business. The unease she was experiencing stemmed from not knowing what to expect once she passed through the heavy wooden door. Her imagination ran wild with what she might encounter once she entered the building. She stifled a nervous giggle as an image popped into her head of prostitutes lined up side by side, like wheels of cheese in a vendor's cart, as patrons squeezed, poked, prodded, and sniffed to pick the one they wanted.

Hoping her anxiety about entering the Pearl wasn't obvious to her companion, she snuck a quick look at Anders. No such luck – he was eyeing her with an amused expression. Lately it seemed he delighted in how easily abashed she was; he almost seemed happiest when her cheeks were three shades of red.

Anders pulled the door open and bowed slightly, giving her a lopsided grin as he gestured for her to enter ahead of him. She paused just inside the entry, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. The cloying smell of perfume and incense, pipe smoke and alcohol assaulted her senses; the pungent odors burning her eyes and nose were strong enough to leave a taste in the back of her throat as she inhaled. Zoya peered at Anders in surprise as his hand suddenly found hers, the gentle tightening of his fingers and reassuring smile offering encouragement; she had assumed that he would tease her about being so readily flustered, not offer quiet support.

He maintained a gentle grip on her hand as he guided her through the foyer into the main room. "First time in a brothel? I remember my first time..." His eyes became distant as he slipped into memory. He offered Zoya a self-conscious smile when he noticed her watching him expectantly. "No need to fear - no one here is likely to bite you, love. Unless you pay for it, of course."

She squared her shoulders and forced a neutral expression, determined to shift the attention from her unease. "Not fear - just concern and caution. Wasn't this where the Templars came after you just a few weeks ago? Now I don't know much about what Templars do in their spare time - when they're not harassing mages - but I'm guessing they don't frequent brothels. So that makes me wonder if someone here, maybe one of the workers, might have sold you out to the Chantry."

Anders swallowed hard, uncertainty behind his eyes. "They approached me right after I left here, actually. I guess I hadn't considered someone from the Pearl – you may have a point."

Zoya's eyes discreetly swept the room - there wasn't a big crowd. Perhaps midday wasn't a popular time for debauchery. A few men sat at simple wooden tables scattered throughout the room, each being entertained by one or more scantily clad workers. The brothel apparently catered to a wide variety of desires. Humans, elves, and dwarves of both genders, even some of questionable gender, enthusiastically displayed their "wares." A pair of large, battle-scarred guards wearing well-used arms and armor stood at the entrance to a hallway behind the main bar area. Based on their grim faces and wary stances, Zoya imagined they were exceptionally good at their jobs and potentially quick to resort to violence. She fought to maintain an air of calm indifference when raucous laughter and catcalling erupted from a group of people drinking and playing cards in a back corner of the room. Her nerves already ran close to the surface; it wouldn't do to react defensively to every loud voice or sound.

Anders steered Zoya to the empty bar near the back of the establishment where a tall, voluptuous woman in a finely crafted dress surveyed the activity in the room. She looked at Anders appraisingly as she spoke her well-rehearsed introduction, "Welcome to the Pearl. My name is Sanga, and I'm the proprietress of this fine establishment. What can I get for you, honey."

"Hello, Sanga. It's good to see you again. I know I've been away for a bit, but I'm here to retrieve my possessions. Are they still in my room?" Anders gave the woman his most winning smile.

The proprietress searched his face, giving Anders a hard look as she recognized him. "Well, if it isn't the wayward mage. I didn't recognize you without your robe and staff. You don't have a room anymore – I had it cleaned out when I heard the Templars finally caught up with you."

"Well, as you can see, the rumors are untrue. I apologize for disappearing – I was briefly… indisposed. Do you still have my things?" Anders may have kept the friendly smile on his face, but it wasn't reaching his eyes and the muscles along his jaw were starting to twitch.

Sanga raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms below her ample bosom. "I may. Do you have the coin to pay for its storage?"

"I had some coin in my pack. I can pay if you return it to me." Anders' smile was turning into a grimace. His eagerness to retrieve his belongings was obvious - Zoya guessed that Sanga would likely use his need against him.

She waved a dismissive hand at him. "I've already taken any coin from your pack to cover the fee to clean your room. Had you left anything of value, I'd have sold it to cover my expenses. You want your pack, you'll have to pay me a sovereign for storage."

Anders turned to Zoya, his hand clasped around her arm as he pulled her a short distance from the bar. He cast an anxious glance at Sanga as he spoke in a strained voice. "I have 30 silver from the market. How much coin do you have?"

Zoya retrieved her coin purse and peered inside. "About the same. Are you sure about paying this woman to get your pack? A sovereign seems pretty costly just for storage, and we need that coin for food."

He let out a heavy sigh, a hand rubbing at his forehead. "I'd say I told you so about the coin you handed over to those urchins earlier, but even with it we'd be short. Andraste's flaming knickers, I really need that pack. Everything that means anything to me is in there."

Sanga was staring intently at Zoya; she cleared her throat to gain Anders' attention. "I might be willing to trade your pack for services rendered. Your elf might prove popular with some of my clients." Her gaze shifted to Anders. "Or there's that electricity trick of yours - several of my girls are still atwitter about that one. I'm sure I have clients who would be willing to pay good coin to partake."

Anders turned to Zoya with a questioning look. She frowned at him, her eyes growing wide as the color rose on her cheeks. "You can't seriously be thinking…"

The tension in Anders' face softened for a moment as he chuckled and shook his head, as though astounded that she would even need to inquire. "Of course not. I was just going to ask if you had any ideas for where we can get more coin."

Zoya grasped Anders' hand, leading him further from the bar and turning so her back was to Sanga. She folded her arms, her fingers lightly tapping her upper arms as she chewed her lower lip in thought. "We don't need coin. If we can figure out where to find your pack, I'm sure I can retrieve it without anyone being the wiser."

A small gasp escaped Zoya's lips and her heart leapt in her chest as a throaty, feminine voice sounded near enough to her ear that she could feel warm breath tickling her skin. "I may know of a way to assist you, sweet thing."

Zoya quietly exhaled, forcing her muscles to relax as she shifted her weight away from the woman. How had she managed to get so close without giving herself away? Trying to keep a calm expression, Zoya's eyes swept over the stunning newcomer. Dark waves of hair rolled down her back and spilled over her shoulders, framing a pretty face with amber eyes. Tall leather boots climbed her long, shapely legs; a white tunic corseted at the waist offset the darkness of her skin and accentuated her ample curves. A heavy, ornate, gold necklace glinted as it cascaded into her cleavage and a gold stud shimmered below her full lower lip. This was a woman who knew her own beauty and the best way to highlight it.

A wide grin spread across Anders' face as he turned to greet her. "Hello Isabela. I was hoping I might run into you here."

Isabela laid her hand on Anders' chest, sliding his jerkin between her thumb and fingers and looking up at him through thick, dark lashes. "Well, if it isn't my favorite apostate with the magic fingers." She circled him, her hand tracing a delicate path across his chest and back as her eyes wandered over him appraisingly. "Mmmm… the pants are so much better than the robes, by the way – they show off your… assets… nicely. Where have you been? It's been so boring without you around." Isabela gave Anders an impressive pout before turning her gaze to Zoya. "And who's your exotic friend? I don't I think I've seen her around before."

Anders introduced the women with a sheepish grin. "So Isabela, what were you saying about assistance?"

Zoya felt a weight pressing on her chest at the realization that Anders knew this woman and they were obviously well acquainted; she wondered just how well they knew each other. Reaching out to grasp Anders' arm, she shook her head in warning. "We shouldn't talk about this here - too many ears. Isabela, do you have a room?"

"I've no need for a room, sweet thing - my ship is down at the docks. If you're wanting privacy, we could go there. I think you'll find that my cabins are quite… comfortable." Isabella's gaze flitted over Zoya as she offered a saucy grin.

Zoya's cheeks burned crimson. "Ummm…maybe another time." She met Anders' gaze, her eyes pleading with him to speak up, but he only smiled and shook his head, letting her know she was on her own. Frustration was obvious in her voice when she spoke again. "Could you please just get us a room?"

Isabela rolled her eyes, "Is she always this bossy?" Sauntering to the bar, she slid some coin to Sanga for a bottle of rum and the use of a room. She led them past the guards and through the entrance of a wide hallway lined with doors. Zoya wasn't sure what she'd expected, maybe something seedier, but she was astonished at how normal this private area looked. Wooden benches with soft cushions, shelves filled with books and linens, and sideboards with flower vases lined the hallway. The room itself was even more normal; simple and clean with a large canopied bed dominating the space.

Isabela shamelessly deposited herself in Anders' lap as soon as he was seated on the end of the bed, her arm draped around his neck. She winked at Zoya, patting the bed next to them. Zoya shook her head, the color rising again in her cheeks; she pulled a stool to the end of the bed instead, perching on it with an expectant look. Isabela shrugged. "So you really want to jump right into business?" She took a swig from the bottle and passed it to Anders.

He took a deep pull from the bottle before passing it to Zoya with an apologetic smile. "Afraid so. You said you could help us?"

"Let's just say that I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine." She chuckled to herself. "But then if you do that electricity thingy, I won't be able to resist scratching yours, will I?"

Isabela's words caught Zoya mid-swallow; she choked and nearly sprayed rum over them both. Wiping a hand across her mouth, she raised an eyebrow in Anders' direction. "What is it with the women in this place and their obsession with your 'magic fingers' and this electricity thing?"

Anders gave her a lopsided grin. "Get me back my pack and I'll show you."

Isabela giggled, "Oh, she doesn't know about your little trick? Please say I can be there when you show her!"

Zoya quirked an eyebrow in Anders' direction, but he only shrugged. She cleared her throat before speaking again. "As entertaining as it is sitting here with the two of you while trying to ignore the moaning in the next room, and - oh wait… is that squealing? Andraste's flaming ass – what are they doing in there?" Zoya's eyes shifted nervously to the adjoining wall as she took a long swig from the bottle. "Maybe we need to do what we came here to do before there's something I can't ignore hearing?"

"Wait… what are you hearing? I don't hear anything." Isabela leapt from Anders' lap and pressed her ear against the wall. "Balls! I still can't hear anything! I do envy those ears of yours." Isabela shook her head sadly as she leaned against the wall. "So Anders' pack… Sanga probably has it locked in her office."

"What makes you think it's in the office instead of in a storage room somewhere?" Zoya leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Isabela twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers. "Let's just say I've spent a bit of time visiting with Sanga in the privacy of her office. The trunk is where she keeps things that might be valuable but she doesn't want to put on display."

"Where is the office? What kinds of obstacles are between here and there? What kind of lock is on the door?" Zoya's attention was fully focused on Isabela as she tried to gather the details she'd need for a successful effort.

"We need to get past a half dozen private rooms on the way to Sanga's office. The guards don't usually venture back there unless they hear trouble, so if we're quiet they won't be a concern. The door to the office is locked, as is the trunk, but they're pretty simple locks so I doubt that'll be a problem." Isabela paused for a moment as she paced. "So here's the plan... you and Anders need to get in a tussle loud enough to attract the guards. As they're dealing with the two of you, I'll slip over to the office, break in, and steal the pack. Then we can meet back at my ship..."

Zoya halted Isabela with a wave of her hand. "I appreciate the information, Isabela, but it's probably better not to drag you into this more than we already have. I can get the pack myself." Zoya stood, running a hand through her hair as she stretched. She approached Isabela and handed off the bottle before twisting her hair into a knot at the back of her neck.

Isabela's gaze was skeptical. "And how do you plan on getting into and out of the office without being noticed? No offense, kitten, but you don't strike me as the master burglar type."

"So my cunning 'innocent elf' disguise worked, did it?" A wry grin crept over Zoya's face. "A wager then – if I can do this thing, then you'll give me that bodice dagger." Zoya nodded at the ornate hilt peeking up from Isabela's cleavage.

Isabela laughed and fingered the golden filigree on the dagger's hilt. "Such a saucy request from such a sweet thing. This dagger was a gift from the staggeringly handsome elf who was kind enough to assassinate my husband. I hate to part with it... but then I doubt I'll have to." The pirate's lips curved upward in an amused smile. "Alright, we have an accord."

Giving Isabela a wink as they clasped hands to seal the deal, Zoya moved on quiet feet toward the door; she gave Anders a quick kiss on the cheek before shouldering her pack. "I'll be back before you know it. Just keep the door open."

The usual thrill passed through her as the Veil parted and she stepped through, into that place between the two worlds where she was mostly invisible to the denizens of either side. She paused to let her eyes adjust to her rippling surroundings and to scan for the presence of other mages or demons in the area. Demons in particular would be drawn to her presence in this place, but as long as she didn't attempt to step through the Veil or linger too long she knew she'd be relatively safe.

Isabela's jaw dropped open and the bottle slipped from her hand, landing upright on the polished wooden floor planks with a thud as Zoya suddenly disappeared from sight. She laughed heartily as she retrieved the bottle and took a long pull. "Oh, I like this elf of yours, mage."

~oOo~

Zoya moved quickly past the private rooms, instinctively holding her breath as she passed the guards, and turned a corner to continue down the empty hallway past several other closed doors. There was always a small part of her that worried she wasn't as well cloaked as she thought she was. Reaching the office at the far end of the corridor, she peered at the door's lock. It was just a simple spring latch - she'd been able to pick those since she was as tall as the doorknob. Retrieving her favorite lockpick from the hidden compartment in her belt, she scanned the area to make sure she was still alone before dropping out of stealth. One unfortunate disadvantage to the stealth spell was that she couldn't manipulate objects in either realm unless they were directly associated with her when she slipped through the Veil. She'd be momentarily visible as she picked the lock to gain entrance to the office.

She pressed an ear against the door to ensure the room was empty before springing the latch, stepping through into the office and closing the door softly behind her. This room was larger than the others - more of an apartment with its bath and basin, table and chairs, desk, and bed. Similar to the rest of the furnishings in the brothel, everything was simple and well-constructed; the linens were new, and fresh flowers filled vases on several of the flat surfaces. Luckily, there was just a single locked trunk; the padlock may have been ornate but the locking mechanism wasn't complex. Given the simplicity of the locks she'd encountered in this place, it was likely that Sanga wasn't accustomed to being burglarized.

Only a couple of packs were stashed in the large trunk. It was obvious which one belonged to Anders as it was full of herbs and potions and held a spare mage's robe. Zoya took a moment to explore Anders' pack, feeling a bit guilty as she did it but unable to resist this candid look into her companion's life. In addition to the herbs, potions, and spare clothing, there were a dozen or more scrolls filled with text and sketches, a small, braided leather animal collar with a tiny brass bell, and a beautifully embroidered pillow. Captivated by her find, she traced delicate fingers over the careful stitching depicting tabby kittens playing among colorful blossoms. Raising the pillow to her face, she rested her cheek against the soft fabric and breathed in deeply – it smelled like him.

To keep Sanga from discovering the theft right away, Zoya emptied Anders' pack and stuffed it with the simple garments they'd been wearing earlier. She returned his pack to the trunk just as she'd found it, before tucking his belongings into her own bag. She hoped it was the pack's contents and not the pack itself that Anders wanted so badly.

Zoya listened at the door, making sure the hallway was clear before stepping through the threshold, softly pulling the door shut behind her and reactivating the stealth spell. She chastised herself for the momentary disappointment she felt at the ease of this task; she should be careful or she might get her wish for a challenge. She chuckled, amused that Isabela doubted her ability to pull it off.

She made it back into the room unnoticed; Anders was still seated on the end of the bed, the tension obvious in his posture as his gaze shifted between the door and Isabela pacing the room. Zoya slid through the threshold, running hurried hands over her garments and through her hair before assuming a casual pose against a bedpost and dropping out of stealth. Isabela's eyes grew wide and she let out a delighted laugh when she saw Zoya suddenly reappear.

Zoya handed the pack to Anders. "I know it's not your pack but everything that was in yours is in this one."

Anders sifted through the contents and gave Zoya a grateful smile. "Thank you, love. You've no idea how much it means to me to have these things back. Is this a new robe?" She could see the relief on his face as reverent fingers lingered on the pillow tucked into the folded garment. He rose from the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

Zoya's pulse skipped a beat, its tempo increasing as she let herself linger in his arms; the soft leather of his jerkin caressed her cheek as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. Reluctantly pushing away from him, she ducked her head to avoid either of them seeing her blush. She cleared her throat before speaking in nonchalant tones. "No problem. I figured if you had a robe again, I wouldn't have to hear you complain about it anymore."

Isabela sauntered over, close enough for Zoya to smell the mingled scents of perfume and rum, and gave her a sly grin. "So I guess I won our wager – you didn't come back with the mage's pack after all."

"Wait… what? But I returned with everything that was in his pack!" Zoya gave her an indignant look.

Anders took a step closer to Isabela, his brow furrowed in annoyance and his voice stern. "You lost the wager, Isabela. Pay your debt."

Isabela raised an eyebrow at him. "And now the mage gets bossy. Will wonders never cease?" She stepped in closer to Zoya as she drew the sheathed dagger from her cleavage, gently pressing her lips to the hilt before deftly tucking it into Zoya's bodice. Her eyes and fingers lingered on the pale skin of Zoya's neckline. "You may want to keep that dagger someplace a bit more secure – I don't think the smith had elven breasts in mind when he crafted it." Taking a reluctant step back, she sighed as she shifted her gaze to Zoya's face. "But I suppose we should get back down to business - let's talk about the conditions of our future relationship."

Zoya avoided meeting Isabela's gaze, knowing the blush had spread past her cheeks. "Fine – I'm all ears…"

Isabela chuckled, "She's so cute! Really Anders, I don't know how you resist her." Isabela gestured for Anders and Zoya to take a seat on the edge of the bed as she perched on the nearby stool. "After seeing your little disappearing act, I think you'd be perfect for a job I just accepted. See, a friend of mine recently found out about a stash of valuable artifacts here in Denerim. It seems he has a business partner that's willing to pay a lot of coin to get his hands on them. I was just going to hire local help, but you have skills that make you uniquely qualified for the position. And I'm willing to split the profit with you – I'll give you a quarter."

Zoya folded her arms, suddenly aware of the unfamiliar feeling of carrying a dagger against her chest. The leather sheath was still warm from its previous owner. "Let me guess – this is more than just a simple burglary?"

Isabela rose to her feet and started to pace the room. "Oh, I think it'll be pretty simple. My sources tell me there's no dedicated guard at the site. The rub is where it's located." She stopped pacing, cocking a hip and crossing her arms as she stood looking down at them. "The stash is locked in a room under the Chantry."

Anders leapt to his feet. "Under the Chantry? Are you insane? You do realize that if we get caught, Zoya and I will get more than just a trip to the dungeon?"

Zoya regarded Isabela with thoughtful eyes, a finger tapping her lower lip. "I assume you have a plan? I'd be more willing to listen if I knew Anders and I were each getting a third of the profit."

The two humans gave her incredulous looks. Anders sank back down to the bed while Isabela shook her head and resumed pacing. "Final offer – fifty-fifty. You two can split your half however you like." She smiled at Zoya's tentative nod. "As far as a plan… I'm guessing you're looking for something more than you sneak us in, we steal the stash, and we become filthy rich?"

~oOo~

The sun was coming up over the horizon as Zoya and Anders sat side by side on the perch at the dock. "What do you really think of Isabela's plan? Can we really pull this off? I mean, two apostates and a pirate wandering the bowels of the Chantry – the more I think about it, the more it seems like a huge risk for marginal reward." Zoya tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she turned to him with a wide smile. "Or maybe the start of a really bad joke..."

"Oh sure, now you start to consider the risk." Anders gave her a wry grin. "It took some time, but I think we've come up with a solid plan. What could possibly go wrong?"

"If Soris were here, he'd tell us that you just doomed us to failure. And then he'd tell us we're out of our minds and try to talk us out of doing this." Zoya chuckled.

Anders laughed and shook his head. "He'd have a valid point."

Zoya's eyes shifted to focus on her hands folded in her lap. "So, what do you think about what Isabela said? About leaving on her ship when we're done with this job?"

He looked out toward Isabela's ship, The Siren's Call, deep in thought. "I guess I hadn't given much thought to leaving. But I suppose it's inevitable. Traveling as part of Isabela's crew might not be a bad option. What about you?"

Zoya followed his gaze, feeling a soft breeze on her cheeks. If ever there was a time to tell him about her father's plans for her, this would be it, but the words felt heavy in her gut. "I don't know. There are things... well, I'm realizing that it's time to leave home. Travelling with Isabela seems as good an option as any, I guess." She knew that what she really wanted was to suggest they leave Denerim together, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. "So… during all of your daring escapes from the Circle, did you ever consider your responsibility to the other mages there? Now that you're free, maybe you could help others to become free too?"

Anders frowned at her, sighing heavily as he crossed his arms. "Is that bit of self-righteousness directed at me? You're free – what are you doing to help mages? Maybe I should just mind my own business; not give the Templars a reason to continue to hunt me. It's not like I'm really free. The Templars still have my phylactery, and as long as they have it, they can find me and take me back to the Circle."

Zoya bit the inside of her cheek, regretting her choice of words. "Oh… I didn't mean it like that! I only meant that perhaps helping other mages in Ferelden would be a worthy task, a purpose. Besides, I helped you, didn't I? I would offer assistance to any mage who needed it."

Anders' eyes were sad as he frowned and shook his head. "Oh, my dear Zoya... so naive, so idealistic. They all need it. You can't save them all."

Zoya's eyes flashed fiercely. "That may be true, but I'm not going to let that stop me. I've seen what the Templars are capable of - I have to try and help as many as I can. Speaking of Templars, do you think they'll continue to look for you? They left you for dead – I would imagine they think their business with you is done."

Anders shrugged. "My phylactery will still be functioning and that will tip them off that I'm still alive. Eventually they'll come looking for me again, find me, and drag me back to the Circle."

Zoya raised an eyebrow, surprised by his casual tone. "Assuming they don't just kill you on sight, of course." She looked up at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Is there any way we can find your phylactery and destroy it? Then you'd be free. I'd be happy to help you."

Anders regarded her with grim eyes. "As long as there are Templars and the Chantry, I'll never really be free. Phylactery or no, I'm still a mage. As are you, love." Anders shrugged again, showing practiced indifference to such troubling circumstances. The silence stretched between them as Zoya struggled with the truth of his words. He watched her with concern; a brighter look came to his face a moment later. "Going back to our early discussion of risks and rewards… I seem to recall offering something to you in return for getting me back my pack. Are you still interested in finding out what all the fuss is about?"

The tone of his voice and look in his eyes made her mouth go dry, her stomach flip-flop and her hands tremble. She opened her mouth to reply, but settled on a small nod instead, ducking her head to avoid meeting his gaze.

He shifted onto his knees, his voice low when he spoke. "This will work best if you kneel across from me." He nodded as she repositioned herself to face him. "You may be surprised by what you feel, but don't pull away. Neither of us will be happy if you do. I have to keep a physical connection between us or the results will be... well, shocking." He chuckled before offering her a wink. "Ready?"

Zoya chewed her lower lip as she looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Her voice refused to cooperate, so she nodded again in reply. She fought the urge to flinch away when he reached out, gently lifting her chin so her gaze met his. Anders' expressive mahogany eyes lured Zoya into their depths, encouraging her to forget everything but him.

Elegant fingers wrapped around hers, giving a reassuring squeeze before the magic started to flow through him. The spell caressed her where their skin met, feeling akin to healing energy, only this was more primal, like lightning or an arcane bolt - but far more gentle. Anders' other hand lingered on hers and she realized what he was doing as the magic drifted through her. This electricity trick was similar to how she used her healing gifts, using the body as a conduit for the magic as the hands offered focus and direction. Only instead of the warmth associated with healing, there was a tingling as the electric current traveled through her, following his hand as it glided over her. She gasped as her body responded in kind, her own magic streaming through her, resonating with his. He took a shuddering breath as she placed a hand on his chest and her energy poured into him.

The separate energies twined through them, harmoniously combining as they grew in power. Oh, how she wanted to surrender herself to it, revel in it, test it to see what it could do. Every nerve in her body sang, adding depth to the melody. She could see it in the surprised intensity of Anders' eyes - he was feeling it too. They swayed to their magics' song, riding the ebb and swell of the phrasing until it reached its inevitable crescendo, swelling to a point of no return. A nervous thought crept through her mind - soon they might not be able to stop. Would they even care when it consumed them? With an effort of extreme will, she broke eye contact, closed her eyes, and staunched the current; she could feel Anders doing the same.

The silence stretched between them as they each fought to regain their composure. Anders let out a quavering sigh, "Maker's breath… That was… well… unexpected."

Zoya took a faltering breath, trembling fingers threading through her hair. She frowned as she fought to get her heartbeat back under control. "What was that? It felt like I had boundless energy at my disposal. Have you ever had this happen before?" Even now, goosebumps rose on her skin at the remembered sensation of the energy moving through and over her.

"I have no idea what that was - it's never happened before..." Anders seemed dazed as he slowly shook his head.

"I bet you say that to all the girls..." She leaned back against the stone wall, the pounding in her head keeping time with her pulse.

They both retreated into their own thoughts. After some time, Zoya could feel him studying her as he moved to sit closer to her, but she kept her eyes closed. He cleared his throat to get her attention; his tone was light when he finally spoke. "I just wanted to tell you that I think you're alright. You've been a really good friend. When the Templars came for me, you could have decided that I wasn't worth the trouble. But apparently you decided at some point that I was. And I know that I've been a lot of trouble. I just wanted to tell you that I'm grateful for everything you've done. And - if you don't mind me saying - I think you're remarkably lovely." The light touch of Anders' hand on hers seared her skin, almost as if the electricity continued to flow between them. He grinned at her warmly, his hand lingering.

She regarded him quietly, her brow furrowing as she tried to figure out where he was going with this. She opted to continue his light tone as she spoke, even as her heart pounded in her chest. Lovely, he thought she was lovely. "I won't argue with you on that - you really are a lot of trouble. Truly - a real pain in the ass. It's a good thing you're so charming or I'd have handed you over to the Chantry a long time ago." Zoya winked at him as she pushed against him with her shoulder and turned her hand over so she could twine her fingers with his.

"And handsome. Don't forget handsome." He offered her his most winning grin.

Zoya made a show of looking him over slowly. "I don't know about that. You're just a human, and a scruffy one at that." She reached up, hesitating for a second before stroking his cheek. His fond grin emboldened her to continue. "And don't even get me started on these little ears of yours." She ran a finger gently over the outer edge of his ear.

Anders pulled back from her, a mock frown on his face and a hand clutched over his heart. "Ouch. You've wounded me deeply." He growled as he swooped forward, his arms closing around her and pulling her tight to him. Zoya giggled as she tried to push him away, pressing her hands against his chest. Anders nuzzled her smooth cheek with his stubbled one, laughing at her half-hearted escape attempts. They settled into each other, the quiet intimacy of their embrace as natural as breathing.

Zoya longed to bask in the warm, golden light of sunrise, wrapped snuggly in Anders arms. But with the sun came the bustle of activity associated with an active port. She attempted to rouse herself to action, trying to form the words to suggest they head back when she felt the soft brushing of Anders' lips against her neck. Her heart leapt as she took a surprised breath, momentarily stilled by the mage's tender attention. But then her thoughts began to race - what to do with her hands? React, or... She was frozen - painfully aware that she was completely out of her element, unsure of herself, slightly terrified, but at the same time strangely euphoric. The sensation wasn't unlike the first time she got drunk - she swallowed hard, hopeful that this didn't come to a similarly unpleasant conclusion. She doubted Anders would appreciate that.

His mouth trailed the length of her neck, grazing her jawline, the warmth of his breath ghosting over her skin. Zoya swallowed, goosebumps rising when Anders tipped her chin so their eyes would meet. His brandy eyes, burning with intensity, captured hers as a soft smile touched his lips. "When I was in the Circle, we played at love. For most of us, it was just a game. It gave the Templars too much power if there was something you couldn't stand to lose." The pad of his thumb traced her skin, his gaze falling to her mouth as his thumb lingered there. "I don't know if you knew this, but mages in the Circle aren't allowed to marry, and if you have a child, well… he belongs to the Chantry and is taken from you. Circle mages often learn the hard way not to form attachments."

"How awful - I can't even imagine," Zoya whispered. In the Alienage, attachments were sometimes all you had.

"You get used to it, unfortunately," Anders continued, a sort of dark humor in his quiet voice. "I never thought that I could dare to fall in love. I'm still not sure I can or even should. But...Zoya, being here with you, I find myself wanting to try."

The world fell out from beneath her as Anders closed the final distance between them. Their lips melted together, the electricity of his touch like liquid fire flooding her veins. Anders urged her mouth open, his tongue seeking gentle entrance, dancing against hers as his fingers tangled in her hair. As the kiss deepened, Zoya let go, losing herself to the cleverness of Anders' mouth.

The sounds of the docks coming to life in the early morning sun brought them back to their surroundings. Anders reluctantly pulled away, his fingers tenderly stroking her cheek as hungry eyes lingered on her lips. Zoya regarded him with lidded eyes, suddenly aware that she'd been holding her breath; it escaped her as a trembling sigh. A memory of the last time they'd been together in this place flashed before her eyes - the chill of his lips on hers when she breathed life back into him. A shiver ran down her spine. "That was so much better with you warm and breathing..."

Anders quirked an eyebrow, his expression puzzled for a moment before he started to laugh. "It was better for me, too..."