118. Ser Cauthrien's Timely Intervention

Really, it had been going far too well anyway. They had successfully infiltrated the estate, found a fellow Warden that no one knew was missing, freed a few politically beneficial prisoners, killed a man who could have given Antivan politicians a run for their heavily extorted money, and sprung the wayward queen from her room. By the Wardens' standards, it was all suspiciously successful.

For that reason, Zevran wasn't particularly surprised when they stepped into the front hall to see a line of Denerim's finest blocking the door.

Loghain's personal guard dog, Ser Cauthrien, was leading the rather flatteringly large group, and she, gutsy woman that she was, stepped forward to face the blood-covered trespassers.

"Wardens," she said, and her voice did not even shake a little at the death glare Percival was sending in her direction. Pity. "In the name if the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms."

"The speed of your response is most auspicious," Zevran quipped quietly, hands resting not-so-subtly on his blades.

"Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

Finian stepped forward smoothly, and Zevran bit back the urge to yank him back behind himself. He chided himself silently; the Warden was more than capable. Against (...headcount...) sixteen steel-armored guards. Braska.

"I'm afraid, Ser Cauthrien, that there has been a misunderstanding. We merely seek to free the queen from Arl Howe's custody."

"That is ridiculous," Cauthrien spat. "There is no way the king would..."

The queen's figure stepped forward, and the knight did a double-take to recognize the regal woman under all that armor. "You... your majesty?!"

"Praise the Maker you're here," the queen said, quickly moving to the knight's side, and alarm bells went off in the assassin's head. "These brigands tried to kidnap me."

"What?" Percy growled.

Fin, however, didn't miss a beat. "Please be reasonable, my queen. I know we are all upset that Arl Howe would so betray your father, when he seemed so loyal. But you need no longer protect him."

"I think I merely wish to go home," Anora said, not looking at them. Cauthrien nodded, motioning her men forward.

"There is no need for extreme measures," Fin continued. "Her majesty is obviously tired; it has certainly been an ordeal."

Cauthrien's eyes narrowed at Finian. "You would have us believe your word over the queen's? When you have already killed her husband?"

Finian shook his head. "Again, a misunderstanding-"

"Enough. We've all heard about your silver tongue, elf, and I won't have it. I only speak steel." She raised an arm to give the attack signal, and the Wardens and companions drew their weapons in kind. "I will give you one last chance to surrender."

Zevran was ready to spring to Fin's aid, and so clearly saw it when his fellow elf looked over his shoulder, beyond Zevran and Percival and Morrigan. To the civilians... the noble boys, and the unarmed serving girl, and the poor lyrium-starved Templar. Zevran could see the quicksilver predictions shooting through his lover's mind... recaptured by Logain, all of them. Erlina perhaps killed outright. No progress in the Landsmeet if they were captured too.

Finally the eyes flickered to Zev's and there was a silent apology, and more. Zevran only had the time to burst out a, "No!" before Finian turned forward and cried, "We surrender!"

Cauthrien paused, and Zevran wanted to take a crossbow to her throat. "Really?"

"Yes. No tricks. No honeyed words. We Wardens will come with you without a fight, provided it's just the Wardens. We're the perpetrators here, after all."

Zevran cast a pleading glance over at Percival, praying the man would be as bloodthirsty as he'd been earlier, but the man's hard jaw was set. He dropped his sword. Ahead of them, Finian had sprung his daggers from his wrists and done the same.

"No!" Zevran hissed, throwing caution to the wind, because they were not taking him. Them. It was unacceptable. He made to lunge forward and stay his Warden's fool tongue, but two sets of iron grips clamped onto him from either side. On his left was Fergus, and his right, Morrigan. All three of them watched as the two Wardens were surrounded in guards and checked over for further weapons. Zevran's heart lurched with every hidden dagger they found on Finian's person, and he wasn't even trying to hide any of them.

Maldita sea. Finian had just volunteered for prison. Finian hated cages. Why had Fin done that when Fin hated cages? Zevran's knees grew watery, because they were marching his Finian out the door, and Finian hated cages, and they were going to put him in a cage, and that wouldn't be the end, because Zevran could remember all the Crow training about how to withstand torture, and they were going to torture him, joder, they were going to torture Finian, and that thought made him want to kill everything, because the world was clearly not worth it anymore if it would torture a kind, intelligent, peace-wanting soul like Finian.

A handful of guards ushered the rest of them perfunctorily out of the estate, eying each of them suspiciously in turn. Zevran hadn't been aware of Ser Cauthrien leaving with the Wardens, and jumped a bit as they were shooed outside. That was unlike him, to be so unaware of his surroundings.

Then, once they were out on the streets in front of the estate, the guards gave them one last warning glare, then turned and left them to their own devices.

"All right, new plan," a rumbling voice sounded from the shadows in the doorway, and Zevran's spine stiffened in sudden anger. "You captured boys run home, if you got one. The rest of us-" He cut off abruptly.

Being lifted a foot and shoved up against a wall with Zevran's dagger at one's throat tended to have that effect.

"Where were you?" he hissed in Garott's face. "Why didn't you go with them?"

Garott arched a brow despite the angry Crow in his face, which Zevran would have found admirable in any other situation. "Gonna be easier to break them out from the outside, elf."

"Do you have any idea...? Fort Drakon. Do you have any idea the porqueria that goes on at Fort Drakon? And you let them go?" Suddenly, his anger widened, because Garott hadn't been the one holding him back. He spun on the rest of the group. "All of you! You just let them go?!"

Hugo whined anxiously.

"You do realize that we would have been slaughtered otherwise?" Oswyn pointed out.

"Better to be slaughtered than to let them fall into Loghain's hands!" Why weren't they as distressed as he was? Didn't they understand? "He's going to torture them!"

"Twas their decision to foolishly sacrifice themselves like the heroic idiots they are," Morrigan said bitterly. "Who are we to throw ourselves upon their paths?"

"Elf," Garott added. "He's strong. He'll be all right."

Joder. He ran a hand through his hair, and it skimmed over that damned earring, and he thought he might cry, he really might. Which was ridiculous. Crows didn't cry.

This. This was what he'd been trying to avoid, but it had happened anyway. This weakness, this terror, and this awful, awful guilt that he hadn't just shoved the earring back into Finian's hands days ago and had done with it. And now it may be that he'd missed his window, that Finian would never be the receiver of a ridiculous little gesture that made his smile shine so damned bright that Zevran couldn't pull himself away.

He'd give Finian that damned earring, one way or another.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "If that cabron hurts a hair on his head, I am going to kill him in the most gruesomely painful way possible. And I am Crow... I know all the most gruesome, painful ways to kill people."

A dwarven hand patted his back. "That's the spirit."