A loud clap of thunder shattered the night sky, sending the residents of Antiva City scrambling for shelter from the impending storm. It was a bit late in the season for such tumultuous weather, but the residents of Antiva knew to expect the unexpected when it came to weather. All over the city, doors and windows were being shuttered against the howling wind and pounding rain, and in every home everyone was hunkering down, hoping the worst of the storm would pass them quickly. Everyone, that is, except for the guests of Sophia deGran, Guild Master of the Antivan Crows. Inside her home, shut away from the dangers storm, Sophia's guests enjoyed every hedonistic pleasure even the most deviant mind could devise, decadent food, wine and liquor, not to mention the army of courtesans ready to tend to any of her guests' more carnal desires, all this and more was at their fingertips. And in the middle of it all, lounged Sophia herself, casually surveying the self-indulgence that surrounded her with a detached sort of arrogance.

It was an evening of celebration for Sophia and her companions. A rival guild master was dead, a master who had been causing a great many problems for Sophia. He had become such a problem that she had been considering eliminating him herself. According to the rumors that were flying through the Crow circles, Enrique's death had been a result of a random act of violence, an arbitrary robbery that had ended in the Crow's death. But Sophia wasn't convinced; in her experience, there was no such thing as a random act of violence, not in Antiva at least, and an assassin as skilled as Enrique would not fall easily to a mere street thug. There was more to it than that. She should be happy that her rival was dead; she should be relieved that he would be causing her no more problems; but she wasn't. She knew that his death wasn't orchestrated for her benefit, and that fact made her wary. She would like to think her followers were ambitious enough to execute a ploy like that without consulting her first; it was, after all, no secret how much she had despised Enrique. But there were none among her number who she believed would take such a risk on her behalf.

None except for one, and he was still an unknown entity. Glancing around the room, her eyes fell on the newest member of her little murder of Crows, a formally lost sheep who had returned to her fold after his brief sojourn in Ferelden. Narrowing her eyes, she carefully appraised the blonde assassin who was currently enjoying the attentions of the dark-headed courtesan who was gently massaging his shoulders. He had approached her a few months ago, offering his services as an assassin in exchange for amnesty. She had been hesitant at first in trusting at first, worried about gaining the ire of a rival house, but after a while, she came to realize his value. He had proven himself loyal thus far, and his skills were undeniable. In only a few months time, he had become a valuable asset, despite the fact that there were still questions about his actions in Ferelden. There was still something about him that still seemed a bit off, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He needed to be tested, and in a moment of sudden inspiration, Sophia figured out exactly how to do it.

Summoning a servant, Sophia whispered a quick demand into the young girl's ear and watched as she scrambled out of the room. The serving girl returned a moment later with a terrified-looking merchant in tow. Sophia smiled to herself and waved the trader forward. "Your name is Philip, is it not?" she asked, gesturing to the dais beside her.

The merchant nodded nervously as he took a seat. "Y…yes, my lady." he stuttered, looking down at his feet as if he was afraid to make eye contact with the deadly woman.

"And you are joining us after returning from Ferenden are you not?" she asked, glancing down at Zevran who had his eyes closed as he enjoyed the attentions of the young courtesan. The man nodded again. "You must be glad to be back amongst civilized folks again and away from that horrid dog smell. Such a vulgar place, don't you agree Zevran," she said, drawing out the elf's name.

"Hum," Zevran said, glancing up as if unaware of the conversation going on around him.

"Ferelden, you did spend a great deal of time in Ferelden, did you not? How in Thedas did you manage to stand the stench for so long? It is such a backward place."

Zevran chuckled and closed his eyes again, "Yes, the smell does take some getting used to, as does their horrid, bland food, but the country did have its charms. Not that I miss it, mind you; I was more than ready to return to civilization. But my time there wasn't totally without mirth."

"Indeed," she said, turning her sharp gaze back on the trader. "So, tell me Philip, what part of dog land were you in last?"

"Highever, my lady. I sailed from there just over a week ago."

"Interesting, Zevarn didn't you join us from Highever? I believe that was what you told me when you arrived."

Zevran nodded, without lifting his head. "It was a convenient port city. I was able to get away quickly without raising any suspicions. Highever isn't nearly as bad as some of the other places I was forced to visit in my travels. It still smelled of dog, though," he added with a laugh.

Sophia smiled as she turned back to the merchant. "Well, tell us, Philip, what news do you bring us from Ferelden? Why don't you entertain us with your tales of our neighbor to the south."

Philip took a deep breath and glanced around nervously. "I'm not exactly a bard, my lady, but I can bring you news. Apparently the nation is still struggling with the darkspawn threat."

"Darkspawn," Sophia interrupted, "but didn't they retreat after the Blight ended? All the legends say that is what happens when the archdemon dies."

"Apparently not. According to the news flying through the north, Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep were both attacked by large armies of darkspawn not two weeks ago."

"Amaranthine, now correct me if I'm wrong, Zevran, but is that not the land that was given to the Grey Wardens by the King?"

The elf nodded, sitting up and tipping the courtesan. "The Wardens are indeed based at Vigil's Keep now. A company from Orlais was scheduled to arrive about the time I left the country, so I imagine they took care of it."

"They were supposed to be there, ser, but according to the stories I've heard, the entire group from Orlais was killed before the Warden Commander arrived. She was on her own for a long time," Philip said, twisting his hat in his hands.

Sophia glanced over at Zevran, curious as to how he would react to the news. To her disappointment, he was merely messing with his tunic, shaking out the dust before pulling it over his head. "Oh, my, that must have been difficult for them," Sophia said, turning back to the merchant. "So how did such a small number of Wardens fare against two armies of darkspawn?"

"They were able to beat them back; at least the rumors say that they did. Unfortunately, it wasn't without loss. Apparently there were several Wardens lost at Vigil's Keep, two elven lasses from what I've heard."

Certain that this news would elicit some kind of reaction from the elf, Sophia's gaze passed over Zevran and was again disappointed to find him completely uninterested, messing with the ties at the neck of his tunic rather than listening to their conversation. Sophia laughed, "I have to say, my Zevran, I'm disappointed. I expected some kind of reaction from that, and yet, nothing." She sighed dramatically, "Well, if you won't ask, then I will. Was the Hero of Ferelden among those elven lasses lost?"

"No, she was defending the city when the Keep was attacked. According to the stories I've heard, she lead a small team and the city guards against an entire army without losing a single Warden. Then she and her party attacked the darkspawn nest, destroying whatever was leading them."

"Ah, that's wonderful new; isn't it, Zevran? Aren't you glad to hear that your Warden has emerged unscathed?"

Zevran finally looked up and met the guild master's eyes. "She is not my Warden; she was a pleasant diversion and a convenient ally for a time, but that is all. I have no more ties to her than I have to any of my former masters," he said casually before looking away, but there was something more there, something you had to be looking for to see. Sophia had him.

Smiling to herself, the Crow leaned forward in her chair and tipped the merchant, thanking him for his time. "Now, if you will all excuse me, I believe I will retire for the evening. Please stay as long as you like. There are rooms here for your use, should you choose to avail yourself to them. Zevran," she said, extending a hand, "care to join me?"

A broad smile spread across the elf's face. "Your desire is my command," he purred up at her, taking her hand and allowing himself to be led into the recesses of the estate.

-0-

Closing the door behind him, Zevran turned to look at the dark-skinned, raven-haired beauty lounging on the bed in front of him. She was alluring in the way all female Crows were. In a guild made up of mostly men, the women were always chosen for their sensuality and sexual appeal. Sophia was no exception, and she knew it. She exuded lust and desire, and there were few men who could resist her charms when she turned them on. Looking up a Zevran, she spread her legs and beckoned him toward her. A lusty smile crossing his face, the elf pulled his shirt over his head and crossed the room to kneel between her knees, running his hands up her slender legs as he peppered the inside of her thighs with soft kisses.

Sighing with contentment, Sophia threw her head back, enjoying his attentions as his lips and hands began to creep up toward the juncture of her legs. "Oh, Zevran," she moaned, running her fingers through his hair, "I am so glad I decided not to kill you when you first approached me. This arrangement has turned out to be so much better than I anticipated."

"That is a common opinion, you know." Zevran said with a chuckle, never pausing as he continued to lavish attention on her legs. "This was an inevitable end, you know," her purred glancing up at her between kisses. "There are few that can resist such charms, and when you look at our combined charms; well, there was simply no resisting it."

Laughing, she reached down and lifted his chin, gently pulling him up to face her. "And it will be so much better now that I know how to properly keep you under control." Zevran blinked in confusion, but remained silent. "You see, Zevran, I don't believe you, that you truly returned to reconcile with the Crows. No, there is more to it than that, but I wasn't until tonight exactly sure what it was that you were after. Was it power, was it revenge, was it more money? I did not know. So I waited and watched, hoping that you would reveal your hand. And tonight you did."

Zevran pushed her down on the bed and climbed over her, straddling her waist as he looked down on her. "I assure you, there is nothing more that I am after than what I told you when I arrived. All I desire is right here."

Sophia laughed and stroked his face playfully. "Come now, Zevran; we are both adults here, both deadly adults. There is no need for this kind of silly role playing; you don't need to lie to me. We both possess something the other wants. I want power, and you have the skills that can help me secure it. You want protection, protection that only I can provide."

"Isn't that what I told you months ago?" Zevran pointed out, looking down at her.

"Yes, but you weren't exactly truthful," she said, shifting their weight and reversing their positions on the bed so that she was perched atop him. "You see, it is not your own protection that you desire. You are here for your Warden."

Zevran rolled his eyes and chuckled good-naturedly. "This again? Come now, we have been over this; have we not? If I wanted to protect her, would I not have stayed by her side, watched over her to ensure nothing happened? You think too much of me, my Sonya; since when have I been interested in the welfare of another?"

"You want so desperately for us to believe that, don't you; that you care so little for her well-being? You have tried too hard to make us believe that you have forgotten her, that you never truly cared. That is why you reacted so callously when the merchant told us of the hardships she was facing in Amaranthine. You wanted so desperately for us to believe that you had no feelings for your little Warden." She looked down at him, staring intently into his eyes. "But you failed, Zevran. No one is that callous, not even an assassin. You spent a year in that woman's bed, and yet you did not react to the possibility that she may be in danger, maybe even dead. Even the most heartless among us would have at least had a professional curiosity as to the fate of a former companion or target, but you…you showed not even the slightest interest in her plight, and in doing that, you gave yourself away. You tried too hard to pretend you didn't care, my Zevran; so much, in fact, that you made your feelings perfectly obvious."

Zevran raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her. "So the fact that I didn't appear to be concerned about her, in your eyes proves that I care for her deeply." He laughed as he pulled her face down so that it was mere inches from his own. "So if I applied the same logic, then my apparent interest in you would prove that I care nothing for you. Let me assure you, bella donna, that is not the case," he growled, closing the distance between them and capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Sophia smiled down at him. "Oh, I have no doubt you have a care for me. At least, you will after what I have to say to you." She got up from the bed and moved to her bureau. "Do you know what this is?" she asked, removing a piece of paper from a hidden compartment and holding it up for him to see.

"It looks like a Crow contract," Zevran said, sitting up casually on the bed, a slightly annoyed look crossing his face.

"Not just any contract. It is the contract for your Warden. I acquired it just after I accepted your proposal; I thought it might come in useful as leverage should you prove to be unruly. I never realized, though, just how powerful it might be. I thought you might have some lingering affections for that elf, but I never imagined just how deep your feelings ran for her." Zevran opened his mouth, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Protest all you like, but I can read you like a book, Zevran Arainai; your time abroad has weakened you. You were hanging on every word that merchant said, try as you might to feign disinterest."

Zevran's jaw clinched ever so slightly as he looked over at her. "So what exactly do you intend to do with that?"

"With this? Well, my Zevran, that is entirely up to you. If you are as unconcerned as you claim to be, say the word, and I will have a team dispatched to Amaranthine to take care of her once and for all. Your reputation with the Crows would be damaged, but the target would be eliminated, freeing you to return properly to the guild."

Zevran chuckled, "You could attempt it, I suppose, but I warn you, she can be very difficult to kill. Believe me, I tried. I found it easier to win her trust and, in turn, her protection for a time, and then return when I thought all was safe. Don't expect your men to fair any better against her than I did."

"In normal circumstances you might be right, but as the situation stands now, she is vulnerable. I spoke with the merchant before our gathering tonight. According to him, they suffered great losses against the darkspawn army. Her Keep was attacked and heavily damaged, so she will need to stay and oversee the repairs. That means we know exactly where to find her, and access to her will be much easier now that her defenses are down."

Zevran shrugged, "Go ahead then, it will be a waste of your resources, and you don't have that many to spare."

"I do now, thanks to Enrique's fortuitous death. But why risk wasting my resources, as you say, simply eliminating her? No, I believe she is much more useful alive. Dead, she will have no pull over you, but alive, alive I can use." Sophia crossed the room and glared down at him. "You care about her, maybe even love her, that much is clear to me now. I can use that. You put one toe out of line, Arainai, and I will have her life. I can have men in place tomorrow, ready to attack her at a moment's word from me. You defy me, and it will be her end."

Zevran's eyes narrowed, "You threaten me with the loss of her? What do I care? I left her, did I not? If I cared for her as much as you seem to believe I do, then how was I able to do that? Send your men; it matters little to me what happens to the hero of the dog lords. My life is here now, and that is all that matters to me; you are all that matters to me." With that he grabbed her, and threw her her down on the bed, hastily removing her clothes before rolling her over on her stomach climbing on top of her. Sophia put up little struggle as she submitted to his ministrations. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with hunger and whispered softly in her ear, "And right now, another woman is the last thing on my mind."

Sophia moaned as he sheathed himself deep in her, moving at first in slow, languid thrusts, building to a more frenzied pace. It was a slow build, both of them giving over to their more carnal desires. Her nails dug into fabric beneath him as she felt the fire in her belly begin to build. His hand reached around her, finding her warm center and caressing her soft folds as he continued to pound into her. His mouth attacked her neck and shoulders, biting and nipping them as he brought her to her climax, sending her tumbling over the edge. Above her, Zevran growled her name as he too found his completion, spilling his seed deep in her before collapsing on top of her. They stayed that way, limbs intertwined as they both tried to slow their breathing.

"Well," Sophia said, glancing up at him over her shoulder, "that was surprising. I thought that would be the last thing you would be in the mood for, after I threatened your Warden and all. It seems, though, that I got my message across." A devious smile crossed her face as she laid her head on the pillow before her. "Don't worry, my Zevran, so long as you continue to behave and perform this…admirably, she will be safe from me."

Zevran glanced down at her and whispered affectionately, "It matters not, mia cara. Don't think on her; she means nothing. You are my world."

Sophia laughed, "Why Zevran, such a nice sentiment; that sounded so sincere, I almost believed you."

"What made you think I was talking to you," he growled coolly, unsheathing a long slender stiletto and burying it into the soft part of her neck, cleanly lacerating her jugular vein. The Crow's eye widened in shock as the blade sliced through her skin and muscle, sending her blood gushing from the wound in her throat. She started to scream, but Zevran moved quickly, pushing her face down into the mattress beneath them, using all his weight to keep her there, muffling the sound and subduing struggles her until she stopped moving altogether. He waited there, sitting on top of her for a few more minutes, until the bleeding finally stopped. Once he was certain she was dead, he climbed off her and quickly dressed, taking care to secure all his weapons before moving around the room. It was the matter of only a few minutes for him to gather up everything that he needed. It had been fortunate that Sophia had so willingly showed him where she stored her contracts; that had been a stroke of good luck Zevran had not been anticipating. Though, he had not planned on killing her quite so soon. She had been a powerful ally and had given him inroads to the Crows that could have taken him years for forge alone, but she had threatened his Warden, a transgression he could not allow to pass unpunished.

Tucking the contracts into his tunic, Zevran pulled his cloak tightly around him and, without sparing to cooling body another glance, disappeared out the window and into the night. He was able to easily move unseen through the streets as they were empty thanks to the storm that had blown through earlier that evening. As he ducked through the streets, his mind raced. Three, no now four Crow masters in three months; it was a solid start, but he knew he had a long road ahead of him. He wondered if now would be an appropriate time to approach Ignacio, or if he should continue to lay low for a while. Zevran had managed to operate undetected thus far, but after such a decisive move, he doubted whether he could remain unknown any longer. He knew that the day would come when he would be ready to declare open war on the Crows; he just wasn't quite ready for that yet. First, he needed to upset the order of things, which killing the masters was definitely accomplishing. Then he needed to organize his allies, a much more dangerous task, but he was on the right track.

Despite his success thus far, Zevran was still very uneasy; Sophia's threats had chilled him to the bone. He had stumbled, revealed too much, and as a result, he had once again put his Warden in danger. In trying so hard to protect her, to seem unconcerned, he had almost pulled the entire weight of the Crows down on her head. If anyone discovered just how much they could hurt him through her, how easily she could be used to manipulate him, all would be lost. If word got out that he cared for her at all, every house in Antiva would send someone to Amaranthine after her in an attempt to reign him in. Once Sophia discovered his secret, eliminating her was his only option; he simply couldn't risk leaving a threat to his Ana alive.

He made it back to his run-down apartment in the southernmost part of the city just before the sun began to rise. After stashing the contracts away with the others that he had accumulated, he began vigorously washing himself, trying his best to eliminate any reminder of Sophia that may still linger on his body. Part of him couldn't help but feel sick, like he was cheating on Eriana, but it was necessary, a part of his ploy to gain the power to properly protect her. Surely she would understand; he prayed she would at least. There was so much he had to atone for with her, this indiscretion was the least of his problems.

Once he felt as clean as he could be, he sat at the window, watching as the sun began to rise over the city. Zevran had chosen this particular apartment for a number of reasons. First, it was well off the beaten track, so no one would come here looking for him. Second, the neighborhood was rather safe, by Antivan standards anyway, so security wasn't exactly an issue. But there were places like that all over the city. No, the real reason he had chosen this particular room was the window. Somehow, staring out of the southern-facing window made him feel closer to Eriana. Though he couldn't see her, knowing that he was looking toward her gave him a quiet kind of peace. He looked down at the ring that he had been rolling over in his hand. It was the ring she had given him the day he proposed to her in the alienage, a symbol of the life they had hoped to have. He rarely went anywhere without it and usually wore it on a chain around his neck, close to his heart. However, he hadn't been able to wear it tonight due to the nature of his mission, and it had nearly caused him physical pain to leave it behind. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed it, wishing he was kissing her instead.

Listening to that merchant talking so casually about the attack on Amaranthine had been nauseating for Zevran. It took every ounce of will in him to keep himself from boarding the next ship for Amaranthine so he could be with her. The thought of her in pain or danger made him physically ill, that coupled with the fact that she had lost people in the attack. He knew how personally she took every loss, and he longed to be there to comfort her. His body ached for hers; it was like a part of him was missing. Every touch from another woman only made him long for the touch he was missing. It was like dying a slow, painful death day by day. More than anything, he wanted to leave this Maker-forsaken city and return to her side, but he knew that leaving was not an option. He had to stay and see this through, or all their suffering, all his work, the pain of their serration, all of it would have been for naught. If he left now, the Crows would most certainly pursue him and her as well.

Sliding the chain around his neck, Zevran shot one last look to the south, sending all of his love to the woman for whom he was doing all of this. He wondered what she was doing, who she was with, and how she was feeling. He hoped that whatever was going on with her that she could somehow find some peace and that she would one day be able to forgive him.

-0-

The grounds of Vigil's Keep were quiet and peaceful in the early hours of morning. The yard of the Keep that had been full of soldiers and darkspawn only a week or so ago, now only held only a small handful of occupants, all of whom were huddled around a small, unlit pyre. At the head of the makeshift altar, the Revered Mother of the Amaranthine Chantry and Niko Amell stood, quietly discussing the final arrangements for the service. Across the pyre, Oghren sat on a low stool, staring blankly ahead, unwilling to look at the neatly stacked wood; Petra stood behind him, keeping careful watch over his movements. He was still seriously injured, but she nothing she could say could convince him to remain in bed. Not that she tried too hard to do so; she knew how important it was for him to be there. Beside them, Cyrion Tabris stood, flanked by his niece and nephew who both had a hand on his arm, gently holding him, helping him to stay on his feet. The old man's eyes were red with tears, and he kept glancing nervously back toward the keep. It seemed as though he had aged many years since his daughter left for Amaranthine, and the stress of things was beginning to show on the old man's face.

Cyrion gave a small sigh as the final guests slowly made their way slowly into the yard. Sigrun came first, holding a small, tightly wrapped figure in her arms. Behind her walked Alistair and Eriana. The King was practically carrying the tiny elf, supporting all her weight as he held her close to his side as they came to stand beside Sigrun. Taking a deep breath, Eriana reached down and took the bundle from the dwarf, looking down between the folds of the blanket at her child for one last time. Nathaniel walked up behind them, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Once everyone was in place, Nathaniel nodded to the Revered Mother, and she began the service. Her words were cliché, some passage from the chant that was meant to celebrate life and death, words that were meant to comfort, but they rang hollow in the grieving mother's ears. She wanted to speak, to talk about her child, but what more was there to say about a live that was never lived? So she remained silent, never looking away from the bundle in her arms as her fingers lightly traced the contours of her daughter's face for the last time, tears running down her own.

Though all before me is shadow, The Revered Mother recited her eyes closed:

Yet shall the Maker be my guide.

I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.

For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light

And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.

Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,

I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.

I shall endure.

What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

Draw your last breath, my friends,

Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky.

Rest at the Maker's right hand,

And be Forgiven.

The Revered Mother opened her eyes and glanced at the elf. "It's time, my Child."

Eriana nodded and, with the help of the King, moved forward to place her child on the pyre. Gently, she placed the tiny bundle on the prepared alter and leaned forward to kiss her one more time. "May Falon'Din guide you my little one," she whispered, "I'm so sorry I never knew you." Shaking, she stepped back into the protective circle of Alistair's arms and nodded weakly at Niko. The mage closed his eyes and whispered an incantation; the wood before them burst into flames, tendrils of fire creeping up, setting the pyre ablaze. Cyrion let a small sob escape as Soris wrapped an arm around him, keeping him for falling over. Eriana watched for a moment before turning her face into Alistair's chest. The last of her strength seemed to give out because her knees buckled and the King had to tighten his grip on her to keep her from crumbling to the ground. Her entire body was shaking as she softly cried.

"Ana, are you alright," Alistair said, brushing her hair back off her face. She shook her head as she clung to him. "Do you need me to take you inside?"

She looked up at him and nodded weakly. "I just don't think I can handle it," she whispered. "Can you take me in, please? I just don't…"

"I've got you, Ana," Alistair said, leading her gently away, supporting the whole of her weight until they were out of sight. The moment they were out of sight of the others, he swept her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest as he carried her up to her room. He tucked her into her bed, and watched from her bedside as she curled herself up into a ball and cried herself to sleep while the smoke form the pyre continued to rise, filling the sky over the Keep.

-0-

I hadn't exactly planned to show what was going on in Antiva with Zevran, but I've missed writing him so much. Plus, I wanted to remind everyone just why he felt like he needed to leave in the first place. (Don't hate him, he didn't know!)

Anyway, sorry for the long delay. I have had some major issues at work over the past two weeks, and I haven't been able to write or respond to any reviews, so again, I apologize. Now that I'm on break, hopefully I'll be able to update a bit more often. Thank you so much for everyone who took the time to review that last chapter. It was a tough one to write (I hate breaking Eriana's heart). Let me know what you think of this one.