The Names We're Given
Chapter 7: Interesting Choices
by Dreamer In Silico
Road to North Calenhad
The morning had dawned bright and cool, without even a whiff of Redcliffe on the breeze. Mei had not slept much, but what little she had gotten had been blessedly empty of nightmares, and she was feeling… present. It was an improvement. Now if she could just get through the whole day without getting furious with Alistair…
"Help!" The sudden noise drew her attention sharply outward. A disheveled human woman was racing toward them down the road. She stopped in front of Mei and bent double, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. "Please, sers, you've got to help us! Bandits – our wagon – it's just around the bend, and I was so frightened…"
Alistair pulled his shield down off his back and frowned, murmuring, "So many opportunists preying on the unfortunate; we should conscript them all to fight the darkspawn, and maybe then we'd have a fighting chance."
"And of course, you will charge directly in, the gallant knight sworn to rescue any fair damsel who will have him," Morrigan observed, sounding almost bored.
"In case you haven't noticed, we're in a gully. Charging in is about our only option, unless you'd care to scale the sides with all our gear and spend who-knows-how-long going around," he countered huffily.
"My Da didn't have anything more than a hunting knife," the woman bleated, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes. "They shouldn't be trouble for the likes of you, but oh, please hurry!"
There was something… off… about her; the fear, while expressive, rang just slightly false, and her clothes were shabby in a manner that was almost artful. Mei shared a flinty glance with Leliana, who nodded slightly, her own eyes narrowed.
The "bandit victim" was a terrible actress.
"We'll help you, human; calm down. Show us to your… wagon," Mei ordered, keeping her voice as neutral as she could. It wouldn't do to tip the bait off that they suspected she was lying.
The woman trotted off in front of them – rather strange for someone who ostensibly feared what lay up ahead – and the party followed. Even more sure of her initial judgment, Mei turned quietly back to her companions and mouthed one word.
Ambush.
Alistair gave her an incredulous glance, apparently taken in by the woman's act, but he loosened his sword in its sheath when she nodded in confirmation.
"Lyrium," Morrigan hissed to him under her breath. "Did you not smell it?" Mei had not either, come to think of it, but that probably meant she should get ready to deal with a mage.
Leliana and Morrigan fell back several paces from the group and fanned out in either direction, prepared to outflank any attackers who might try to close in on the group from behind, and Sten matched step with Mei. His towering presence at the front of their group would give any sane creature pause, and she gave him a tight smile as she walked between the giant and Alistair. They would be ready for whatever they found up ahead.
Their guide pretended to be surprised for the party's benefit when they came around the bend to find only two figures waiting quietly at an overturned wagon, and surged forward to meet the shorter of the pair. The man was a tattooed elf clad in well-worn leather armor, and he wore his cocky grin like a mask as the Warden's party approached.
Wait for it…
Mei paused, allowing Alistair and Sten to close ranks in front of her. She would support them at medium range unless an attacker managed to get past both warriors and Llorc to get too close… and then he or she would be in for a nasty surprise when met with both magic and a pair of wicked swords.
A trilling whistle from the scrub on their far right flank confirmed that Leliana was in position, and not a moment too soon, for there was a crash as a large, dead tree was tipped over behind them, and a line of archers stepped as one out of cover on the ridge behind the wagon and opened fire.
Mei immediately wove a minor projectile shield around herself and Sten to stave off the hail of arrows, then tallied the ambushers at a glance.
Five archers, all with the advantage of higher ground. Their isolation made them a perfect target for Morrigan; Mei would just have to hold onto her shield until the witch could deal with them.
Easy enough.
Three men armed with swords and dirks had appeared from behind the wagon itself, bringing the melee tally up to five as they joined the original two. To her surprise, the elf seemed to be the one giving the orders, but she didn't have time to dwell on that.
The woman was chanting something…
Definitely a mage.
As quickly as thought, snowflakes flickered around Mei's fingers, and the human's spell froze in her throat. The hapless woman's eyes were wide in frosted-over shock as the Warden's next working deftly wrenched her command of mana away from her, and she would have toppled to the ground had her rigid muscles allowed it. Instead, she crumpled moments later as a bolt of lightning cracked out of the clear air above her, accompanied by Morrigan's shout of triumph.
Mei allowed herself a glance up toward the ridge, and saw that a self-contained electrical storm already harried the enemy archers. With Leliana's steady stream of arrows adding to the vicious bite of magic, the poor fools would not last long. It all felt too organized for a simple group of bandits, but whoever their attackers were, they clearly were not prepared for the strength of the whole party.
Sten and Alistair, meanwhile, had their gauntleted hands full nearby. All five of the sword-and-dagger-wielding attackers were still up and swinging, and Llorc had leapt gleefully into the fray, aiming to distract and hamstring the men as they harried the giant and the templar. Mei began to frame a subtle casting that would speed her allies' reaction times, but the chant died on her lips as she saw the lithe form of the elf disengage from the melee.
Apparently, this one was to be hers.
This could be fun.
The bastard was fast, and already too close for her to be comfortable relying on her spells. Drawing her lips back into something that might have been a grin or a snarl, she yanked her slender blades from their scabbards and met the elf's opening play.
Steel sang against flashing steel, and in the moment of the bind, Mei stole the chance to focus for the brief instant it took to swathe both blades in bone-chilling frost. The extra layer of threat on her weapons would be irrelevant if she were to actually land a strike, since her opponent was merely flesh and blood and likely did not even outweigh her by a great deal… but she well knew how startling such a thing could be.
Her would-be killer did not so much as blink.
He merely executed a graceful disengage – how did he move so sodding quickly? – and nearly had the tip of his offhand dagger between her ribs before she jerked her crossguard down to block him. Foiled, he leapt backwards on nimble feet before her other weapon could catch him, taking up the keen-edged dance of feint and parry once more. She thought she caught the white-toothed flash of a grin on his face, but was too preoccupied with avoiding his attacks to do more than simply register it.
Sten let out a roar to Mei's left, and from the corner of her eye, she saw one of the human fighters sidestep out of the melee and angle for her back.
There was no time for caution with this one. Mei deflected another attack from the elf and launched herself toward the human who was attempting to flank her, drawing breath as she did so for a single, crude spell. He caught the attack of her swords well enough, but her shouted power word hit him like a physical force, and he fell to the ground, stunned. If she ever saw him again, she'd have to thank Rian for teaching her that one.
Without even glancing down at the fallen ambusher, Mei swept her blade across his exposed throat as she whirled aside, anticipating the opportunistic attack from her elven opponent. Indeed, he was there, locking blades with her once more, and her eyes locked with his in the fraught moment of struggle. The assassin's amber eyes showed no malice, nor even determination, but merely an odd serenity that reminded her of a dying soldier at Ostagar, as if he was already halfway into the Fade.
Gritting her teeth, she squashed the sudden curiosity the glance engendered and drew breath to give the short-range stunning spell another try, thinking that she might manage it again if only she could completely disengage for a split second – but the attempt became suddenly and completely moot as Alistair barreled into the elf, shield first.
The blow was a sound one; her strange opponent lay sprawled on the ground and out cold. Sten raised his greatsword to finish him off, but Mei held up her hand.
"Wait," she ordered hastily, a quick visual sweep of the area confirming that the skirmish was, in fact, quite over. "This one was the leader, and he gave me a hell of a fight. Tie him up – I'd bet my own ears I know who sent him, but I want to see if we can get any other useful information."
"As you wish," Sten grunted.
"He has the look of the north about him," Leliana murmured as she rummaged through her pack for rope. "If I do not misplace my guess, he is Antivan… which could mean some rather interesting things."
Mei nodded curtly, finally allowing the enchantment on her swords to dissipate as she slid them back into their scabbards. "We'll find out soon enough, I suppose. Search the area for useful items and any correspondence, and I'll keep an eye on our prisoner. I doubt he'll be out terribly long."
Sure enough, no more than ten minutes had passed before the elf began to stir, groaning softly at the realization of what was likely a rather exquisite headache. His eyes cracked open as he tried to move his limbs and found he could not, then blinked several times as his fine-boned fingers examined the ropes around his wrists. More alert, the amber eyes swept upward, finally widening for an instant as they settled on Mei. He lifted his head from the ground slightly, then sagged back to the dirt as the length of rope the stretched between his ankles and wrists snapped taut.
"Well, this is considerably less enjoyable than the last time I found myself hog-tied… if a touch more dignified," he muttered dryly. "I suppose I owe the dubious honor of my continued survival to a desire for information, yes?"
Ridiculously, Mei caught herself about to chuckle, and huffed out the breath sharply through her nose instead. The man was surely addled. She stared down at him, considering, as her companions gathered behind her.
"What, no snarling defiance or fruitless threats? No quivering requests for mercy? You are an odd one," she said, her tone light as a scalpel.
"Defiance would be rather ill-advised, I should think, given the circumstances," he observed neutrally. "But again, I think you did not go through the trouble of sparing me for the sake of a round of banter, skilled at it though I am." Mei snorted, and he continued. "So allow me to save you some trouble. My name is Zevran, and I come to you courtesy of the Antivan Crows, who recently accepted a contract on the heads of the surviving Grey Wardens."
To Mei's right, Leliana swore softly. "I knew it." When Mei gave her a questioning glance, she elaborated. "The Crows are a guild of elite assassins, all trained from a young age and extremely deadly. This man's services would have been very expensive, indeed."
As best he could from his hampered position, the assassin nodded, sparing an almost insouciant smile for the bard. "Right you are, lovely lady, although the exorbitant sum would never cross my eyes – nevermind my palm – even had I been successful."
"I expect we already know who initiated the contract, but for thoroughness' sake let's hear it anyway," Mei said with a sigh.
"It would not normally be given to me to know the name of my employer, since I am but a tool to be rented out," Zevran said, his words surprisingly blithe, "but in this case, it would have been rather difficult not to recognize him. Your Fereldan… regent, as it were, Loghain, funded the contract, although it pained him to so sully his hands by dealing with one such as I. My primary contact was his lieutenant, one Rendon Howe."
Alistair hissed at this revelation, slamming the bottom edge of his shield against the unyielding ground. "That treacherous scum just won't stop. First the Couslands, now this."
Uninterested in dwelling on the despicable nature of their enemies, Mei crouched, the better to see the elf's face as she continued to question him.
"You passed through Denerim, then, did you?"
"Briefly, yes."
"What of Loghain's daughter, the queen? Did you see or hear aught of her while you were there?" Might as well milk him for whatever he's worth.
Zevran shook his head slightly, stopping when he remembered half his face was against the ground. "Not a peep. I got the impression that Howe was… what is that Fereldan idiom you use?... 'skating on thin ice' in presuming to arrange a contract with the Crows in the first place. He made sure I was isolated, hurried through, and sent on my way as expediently as possible. I cannot say I objected, at the time."
Mei chuckled, amused despite herself. "Now there's a sentiment I can agree with."
"He yet lives? Let us finish him off and have done with this nonsense; it seems we are unlikely to gain anything truly useful from this assassin." Morrigan's customarily disdainful voice came from the base of ridge as she rejoined the group from her round of scavenging.
The recommendation made sense, of course, but Mei found herself too curious to assent to it, just yet. The elf's mouth twisted sardonically, and his eyes fluttered closed for a long moment – was he waiting for the blow to fall? Perhaps not; his eyes opened once more, and his gaze fell more sharply upon her as if some decision had just been made.
"I would make a… proposal, if I may presume to retain your attention for a few moments longer," he offered.
Mei let the question hang in the air, struck by the intuition that if she heard this man out, she would at the very least find herself unwilling to kill him, and wondered fleetingly if it might not be better just to silence him now. But as such decisions often happened for her, she realized that she'd known what she would do as soon as he had asked. "Speak," she commanded softly.
"Well, you see, as an assassin who has most spectacularly failed in completing my contract, as far as the Crows are concerned, my life is forfeit. I should have died in the attempt, and the fact that I yet breathe is purely contingent on your forbearance. In the unlikely event that you were to release me, I would be dead by the blades of my erstwhile comrades soon enough… probably after an extended torture session besides." He shuddered expressively. "To my continued amazement, I find that I would prefer to live, and that you handily defeated my attempt on your lives would… give the Crows significant pause in the future. Allow me, instead, to serve you, as from what little I have heard of the situation in Ferelden you could likely use all the help you can get."
His words, so familiar in their sentiment, snagged at her attention like briars on cloth.
"And what's to stop you from completing this contract of yours when our guard is down and returning to Antiva?" Mei was intrigued by the offer – of course – but as yet unwilling to let anyone else see that. She had the irritating and mildly disturbing feeling she already knew her answer to his proposal, too.
"Aside from the fact that you are damnably difficult to kill?" A slight, self-deprecating smile twisted Zevran's lips. "Even if the Crows did not kill me upon my return for taking so long – a much more common occurrence than you might think – I would still be on their leash again. It would please me to for once have another option."
She closed her eyes and slowly opened them again. Accepting an assassin on the team would likely be the most reckless thing she'd done to date… but only barely. His explanation of the situation with the Crows had struck a deeper nerve than anyone present, save perhaps Morrigan, could know. She had reached for her freedom from the templars, from the Circle, because the alternatives had finally become too dire for the risk of escape to matter. Would she be able to forgive herself if she scorned Zevran's own attempt at freedom, despite the fact that killing him was the safer choice?
" 'Tis an interesting offer," Morrigan suggested. "Though I know not whether it would be practical or merely foolhardy to accept."
"I don't like it, not at all." Alistair was not pleased. "We already have to watch our backs too much as it is."
"Foes do not become allies over a few words. He should die, and then let us move on," Sten objected.
Leliana was rather more optimistic. "His skills would be useful, and from what I know of the Crows, what he has said is accurate. Besides that, I do not think he would have been so willing to share information if he expected to return to them."
"It is a heartening thing to have such beauty speak in one's defense," Zevran offered, his half-smile returning.
"... As long as he does not get too cocky," she added, an eyebrow raised in reproof.
Mei was nodding slowly as she listened to her companions. Their opinions were approximately what she had expected, and not especially helpful, as they simply personified curiosity and opportunism's age-old war with caution.
But if that's all it comes down to, I really do know the answer, don't I? She had only ever taken one side in that battle, and she wasn't about to go turncoat, now.
"I will have whatever oath you hold most dire that you will not harm myself or any member of the group, and that you will follow my orders in battle, then. I should warn you, though – we challenge the Blight that threatens to overtake Ferelden, and your survival is no more sure with us than it would be elsewhere. Is that acceptable?" she offered evenly.
The elf shrugged, unconcerned. "From what I hear of darkspawn, they might eat my corpse, but they will not bother to torture me before I die. It is acceptable."
Mei drew her belt knife and deftly removed the ropes that bound him, and Zevran nodded his thanks, though his face was subtly wary at her touch. When he could roll to his knees, he wasted no time in laying a fist over his breast and speaking up to her.
"From this point on, I, Zevran Arainai, am your man, body and blades, without reservation. This I swear, until such time as you choose to release me, or death overtakes me." The formality of the oath sounded strange upon his lips, for all she had not yet heard him speak more than a handful of minutes. It was a pretty enough thing, but she strongly suspected the real balance of his loyalty would remain pragmatically mercenary – which should be simple enough to predict, at least. She would only have to make sure she knew in advance if the advantageous path might shift in favor of turning on them.
Or he could turn out to be as infuriatingly idiosyncratic as Alistair, of course, but one could always hope.
He had paused, regarding the faces before him in turn before he spoke again. "May I know the names of those I will be fighting with?"
Grabbing his gloved hand and pulling him up from the dust, the Warden nodded and indicated her companions in the semicircle around them. "I am Mei. The others are Leliana – " the bard inclined her head – "Alistair, Morrigan, and Sten. And the mabari is Llorc."
"My thanks. A most interesting assembly, to be sure," he said.
"Are we to be taking on another who cannot keep rein on his tongue?" Sten groused.
"Oh, Sten, but if I have someone else to talk to, I'll bother you less, I'm sure!" Leliana teased.
The qunari snorted. "I find that unlikely."
Mei shouldered her pack, ignoring the bickering. "Let's head out. It's nearly sunset, so we'll find a place to camp as soon as we've put some distance between ourselves and this part of the road."
A/N: "You're curious and smart and bored, and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures you miss because you're waiting to think of a plan. To find them, look for tiny interesting choices. And remember that you are always making up the future as you go." - xkcd
The choice here wasn't tiny by any means, but this is what I was thinking of when I wrote it.