A short chapter, because I decided to keep it focused on Zev.

Frackington- fitzFforthwright's Discourse on the Nature of the Unnatural is a book that Airam discussed with Sabhya in Enaid Aderyn's Encounters in L's space. That book became part of my 'canon' the moment I read about it. :D

Thanks awesome Brelaina for beta-reading this.

Thirty Silver

On the way back to the Erwin's estate he kept determinedly silent. The crazy kid was trying to talk, to joke about how everything went smoothly, but he didn't reply, or even look at the boy. It was a real miracle that they survived. Ignacio was on the brink of murdering them at least three times. But did the crazy kid notice? Of course not.

They were already in the yard, when Airam stopped. He made a few more steps, but the boy didn't move. Unwillingly and more than a bit irritated, he turned back and raised his eyebrows in question.

Airam frowned and crossed his hands on his chest. "So that's it? You're not going to talk to me any more? You made your point, you're angry, fine, I get it. But this is really getting on my nerves. You're acting like a silly child."

"Oh? I am acting like a silly child?" Unbelievable. This kid was really impossible. "I am only wondering at the miracle that we are still alive."

"Why wouldn't we be? If Ignacio wanted us dead, he wouldn't have sent the note, right? You said so yourself. He wanted to talk and I obliged. Why is it so bad that I asked for the same thing?"

"Because you had nothing real to discuss with him. You are in a company of one of Antiva's most notorious assassins, who happens to be extremely pissed of at you and you start to discuss Antivan export and taxes? Where did you even hear about that?"

"I –"

"When I said he was notorious, I did not mean for his patience and kindness! He could have changed his mind at any moment! He almost did, you managed to bring him to the edge at least three times! And what would you do then, hm?"

"Yes, well, he didn't! And I knew he wouldn't. I don't pretend to understand what's going on here, but for some reason the Crows in Denerim decided not to help in the assassination of the Wardens, but rather to cooperate with them. Don't you think there must be something more to it?"

What Airam said made sense. In fact, he had been thinking about it during the whole time with Ignacio. But that didn't mean that what the crazy kid did was a clever thing.

"It was still a terrible gamble."

Airam just shrugged. "No risk no gain. And besides, what would you have me do, just stand there and let him treat me like a brat that comes and goes at his call? Or insult my friend, right there in front of me? I'll be damned if I ever let anyone get away with that."

"I was not offended. What he said was true. I am a whoreson and a runaway slave, nothing more. You do not need to risk your life because of me, Warden."

The boy flinched as if he hit him. He was being unfair, and the most ungrateful bastard in Ferelden, but if it would keep his boy alive, then it was worth it. "You have a responsibility towards the whole country, no? If you died today, the consequences would be -"

"You sound like Gran. Fine, do as you wish, keep sulking for the rest of your life, I don't care. Just leave me alone. I'm sick and tired of all this." Airam turned and walked away.

oOo

He watched him leave, part of him wanting to run after him and apologize, but he was still angry. Why do I even care? I'm an assassin. It's not wise to get attached to one crazy kid, no matter how adorable he is. If he wants to get himself killed, it's entirely his own business. Yes, yes of course. He knew that. He kept reminding himself of that for the last few months. Not that it had any effect. Try as he might, he couldn't get the crazy kid out of his mind and heart.

He snorted. Forget about Wynne, I'm starting to sound like Leliana.

Cursing under his breath, he turned and walked away. They were supposed to leave for that lunch in about one hour, but surely they would not need him there. He was neither a Warden nor noble. He… needed to be alone, to think about it in peace, somewhere where he couldn't see that crazy kid and his lovely eyes – there he was acting like Leliana again. This had to stop. It was ridiculous. Worse – it was dangerous.

Half an hour later, he found what he was looking for. Back alley, reeking of piss, vomit and stale wine. And an inn. There was a sign, hanging over the door, but it was so rusted and dirty it was impossible to read the name. This should be perfect. He took a deep breath as he stepped in. It was so dirty that The Silent Lady seemed like a clean and cosy place in comparison. Several guys gave him a long, suspecting glance – in his new, clean clothes he looked terribly out of place here. And yet he belonged here much more than at the castles. These people – not really evil, perhaps, but hungry enough to murder you for a silver – were more appropriate company for the likes of him, not princes or Wardens.

Perhaps it was time to back away. The Crows thought he was with the Wardens and it seemed the Denerim cell wanted to avoid any trouble with them. It should give him enough time to disappear. He could board the ship to Rivaini... and then perhaps continue out of Thedas.

A handsome young elf was watching him carefully, with a lascivious smile on his lips. He smiled back and the elf came to his table.

"May I join you, Ser? You seem so lonely," he said.

Pathetic. These Fereldans. He was quite sure that he was better at seduction even when he was fifteen. Then again... this one probably wasn't much older.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"Eighteen, Ser." The boy attempted a seductive smile, but failed miserably.

"Don't call me that," he said sternly.

"As you wish... What should I call you, then?"

"You don't have to call me anything. How much do you want?"

The young whore hesitated, obviously a bit scarred by his stern voice. "Fifteen silver for head, thirty for everything," he said hesitantly.

"Follow me."

The young elf tensed up at that, but obediently followed him out and further back into the alley. Only when he slammed the boy into a wall did he realized they could have used a room in the inn. Not that it would be much cleaner than here.

The boy stared at him with eyes full of fear – but also determination. Big eyes, quite lovely. Except they were watery-blue. And his/the ears were definitely too long. And the skin was too dark. Pale, yes. But not enough.

What am I doing here? With a boy who's not even a real whore? And why does it matter to me? Why can't I just take him and then leave? What does it matter, what colour his eyes or hair are?

Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the wall. The boy was now shaking with fear, probably thinking that he was some kind of dirty pervert who enjoyed hurting young whores. He took off the pouch from his belt. There wasn't much money in there, in total maybe three sovereigns; he learnt ages ago that it wasn't wise to take out the real pouch with all of your money every time you wanted to buy a beer. He should say that to his – why was he thinking of him again?

Frustrated, he gave the whole pouch to the whore who eyed it suspiciously, as if it was some lethal poison.

"Get lost."

He watched the boy running away as quickly as possible and sighed. Not only had he'd gone soft, but apparently his charm was gone, too. One angry, the other scared. Both running away from him. What a day.

oOo

A warm breeze smelling of sea, the sun shining on his face through the thick branches, the sound of the waves. With his eyes closed, it was almost perfect. He could almost pretend he was back home in Antiva.

But was it home? What did it matter, that the sea was much warmer and that the beaches had golden sand, soft and cool under feet, when there was no one to share it with? The only person he cared about in Antiva was long dead. Any time he thought about Antiva, he was thinking of death; death that he suffered and death that he caused.

Yes, he missed the warmth and smell of oleanders and green olives; but if he left here –

It was useless. Who was he trying to fool? He couldn't leave. What was he thinking? Why was he here and not with him? Running away like that.

Suddenly he realised that the light was not golden any more, but orange and red. Like when the sun was setting down. He almost jumped up. It was setting down. Brasca. How long was he here already? It would be well past dinner by the time he reached the estate. Better not lose any more time.

He left the beach without looking back at the sea.

oOo

It was already dark when he got to the mansion and the gates were already locked. He had to be let in by the butler, which was mildly embarrassing. His plan was to go immediately to Airam and to apologize, somehow, for both his behaviour in the morning and for running away like that. But the butler said Erwin would like to have a talk with him first. It didn't sound very good and he half expected a lecture or interrogation about his loyalty and trustworthiness.

Erwin gestured him to sit down and offered him a glass of plum brandy. They exchanged few obligatory phrases, but just as it was starting to be annoying, Erwin paused and gave him a very pointed look.

"I've heard you and Air paid a visit to your former comrades today," he said.

"… Yes." As expected – a discussion of his loyalty. "I can assure you, however, that it was not on my initiative. We were contacted by the Master of the Denerim cell and Airam insisted on going there."

Erwin lifted his hand. "You don't need to apologize. I do not blame you or suspect you of collaboration with the Crows. If I did, you'd be dead already," he stated matter-of-factly. "But I've known Air for ages, I know how stubborn and childish he can be sometimes."

That irritated him. He accused Airam of the same things just this morning, but that was different. Hearing it now from a man who called himself Airam's friend… he could not stand it.

"Oh, I would not say that," he said jovially. "He is stubborn, yes, but usually also quite reasonable."

For some reason, that answer seemed to amuse Erwin quite a lot. "But surely it must be frustrating for someone like you, who already is known for… achievements in his field of work, shall we say? – to follow a kid without any experience. I can imagine it's not easy. Judging by what Air told me about your adventures and his decisions, you're quite lucky to be still alive."

"Airam is inexperienced, I do not argue with that. But he is a bright fellow and learns quickly. And as for his decisions – well, all our tasks so far were completed successfully and all of us are still alive, as you said. So I guess those decisions were right, no? That other people would choose to act differently – of course they would. In such a case, however, we probably would not be here to discuss it. I at least would be definitely dead. But I do not understand. Are you not friends? From what Airam said I thought you used to be good friends, back in the Tower."

"We are, but being friends does not mean we agree on everything, all the time. A good friend should know the weak points of the other one. How else would he know how to support him? More brandy?"

He blinked at the bottle, while Erwin patiently waited for his reply, grinning. This man was truly frustrating.

"No, thanks," he managed at last.

Erwin just shrugged, poured some in his own glass and continued as if he never stopped.

"I do not mean to offend Air. I know how difficult this must be for him. He's stubborn, and very proud. Oh, yes. He always wanted to be respected. Not because he's mage, or an elf, he always hated those labels. And now…"

"Now he's got another label," he finished quietly. Yes, he knew that about Airam. And yet he used it – his weak point – to win an argument.

"Exactly. And a rather demanding one, too. Knowing Wynne, she reminds him of it ten times a day."

"At least, yes," he chuckled nervously.

"I bet he loves that… oh, and it reminds me – this golem, Shale, why does she call Air 'It'?"

"It's because of her previous master. He was doing some kind of experiments on her… Airam read his journal, said he was meddling into demonology and doing some nasty experiments and that he didn't blame Shale for hating him."

"Makes sense… So Air is still reading everything he can get his hands on? He was always like that. Always carrying at least two books with him. Even to the latrines."

"That I cannot confirm. But I would not be surprised if –"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Which were open all the time, he realised. He didn't have to turn around to know who was standing there. Brasca. Perhaps the crazy kid didn't hear everything?

"I am sorry to interrupt this most interesting discussion. I've been told you wanted to see me?"

So he did hear it. But he didn't sound angry, just mildly annoyed… and perhaps a little bit amused? Or was that just his wishful thinking?

Erwin chuckled. "Yes, well, seeing how quickly you finished the Political Efficacy – Impact Of Domestic And Foreign Business On Political Decisions, I thought you might want something more demanding. Here." He got up and picked up a few journals. "This is a bit of history – recent history, just last few decades – on business relations and the political impact it had."

"Who says I finished it? Even Frackington-fitzFforthwright's Discourse makes more sense than that!"

"Nature of the Unnatural? You had a problem with that? I'm so disappointed in you. We'll have to go over it, later..."

"Yes, well, not everyone shares your and Frackington's hobby in making unnatural things seem natural and then discuss how it proves the arbitrariness of the relation between intelligent and corporeal nature until everyone else drops down dead of boredom."

"Oh come on... Discourse is just basics, anyone half literate should know that book... But back to the Political Efficacy – trade with Antiva is described in chapter nine… which is almost near the end. And as I gave you the journal only yesterday evening and you were that far already this morning, I presumed you would know it by heart now."

"Next time don't presume." Airam glared at his friend, obviously trying hard to seem calm – but he was quite clearly embarrassed. And - was it just the light or did the tips of Airam's ears really turn pink?

"All right, all right. Don't give me that look. It was me who taught you to stare like that, anyway. Just take these and have a look at it, when you have time, will you?"

Airam sighed. "Fine. Give it here. Anything else? Then good night."

Erwin looked at the retreating boy. "I think he should get some new robes," he said suddenly. "Only old guys and complete morons wear those dresses these days. They have some really nice sets with trousers in the Wonders of Thedas, I should tell him to go there."

"You know that's a brilliant idea – "

"Of course it's brilliant. I'm a genius, after all. And why are you still here?"

Well, he couldn't say he expected that. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me now. Don't you think you should go to him and explain yourself instead of chatting here with me?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Erwin looked at him with smug grin at his face. Then it finally clicked – and the next second he was on his feet, running after Airam.

No wonder those two were such good friends.

oOo

He caught up with Airam just in front of his room. "If I promise I will not role-play Wynne again, will you forgive me?"

Airam burst into laughter. "So it was a role-play? I must say, you were really convincing."

"Ah, that's me. Awesome at whatever I do. Friends again?"

"I've always been your friend, Zevran."

"I... I know," he admitted, avoiding Airam's eyes.

"All right, then. I have to go to study these horrible things, so if that's all –"

"Wait. I... would like to ask you something... if I may."

Airam shot suspicious glance at him and opened the door. "Get in, then. But just so you know, if you're going to ask me to help you find your long lost sibling, count me out. One is enough for me."

"Er... no, do not worry."

He followed the boy into the room and sat on the armchair. Airam put the journals on the desk and then threw himself on the bed.

"What a day... What did you want to ask?"

"First tell me who asked you to find their long lost sibling."

"Alistair. Well, he found out about her earlier, when he became a Warden, and this morning he went to check some facts, like where she lives, what she does, things like that. He asked me to go visit her with him tomorrow."

"You don't seem very happy about it. I would think you would be glad for him," he said, surprised.

"Well, yes, but..." Airam sighed and threw himself on his back. "Imagine for a moment that you're not a sinful debauched Antivan, but one of us finicky Fereldans, who still make a lot of fuss about such old-fashioned things like family, love, honour, loyalty... Imagining it already?"

"As hard as I can."

"Good. Now, this part will be more difficult. Imagine you're a woman, some forty years old - "

"That will indeed be bit more difficult, yes."

"I thought you were awesome at whatever you do? All right, so, woman, forty years old, widow with five children, crammed all in one room, earning your living by doing laundry. Now, one day suddenly a man appears at your door. He seems to be one of those naïve and carefree young nobles who never had to work for their living one day. He explains to you that his father was a king, who spent a few nights with your mother when he was in Redcliffe – sure, he knew she was married, but what does that matter to the king? And then the child was born, but the woman died during delivery. The man says he's the child and that he didn't know about you until recently and that now that he found you, he hopes you can be one big happy family. What would you say to him?"

"Before of after I drown him in the laundry tub?"

Airam sighed. "Yes, exactly. He's going to be hurt... and I don't know how to help him."

"But that is his private thing, no? He should do that without you. Why should you help him?"

"Because he's my friend. That's what friend do, you know. Help and give support when necessary."

"Friendship and support and all that is nice, yes, but why go to such an extreme?"

"Because it's worth it."

"Not if you get hurt or troubled because of it, it is not," he said in that Leliana's voice, before he could stop himself. Brasca.

"Zev, I -"

He quickly got up. "I – I should go. You need to study, yes? I should stop bothering you."

"Wait! You wanted to ask me something, right?" Airam quickly got up too.

"Ah, that... it can wait till tomorrow." Though he doubted he would ever find the courage to ask it – once this is over and you don't need an assassin following you around any more, can I still stay with you?

"Are you angry with me again?" Airam's voice was worried and perhaps a bit frustrated, too.

"No, of course not. Why would I be angry? But it was a long day also for you, yes? We both need to rest."

He could see Airam was not convinced, but he didn't pry further. "As you wish. Good night, then."

"Good night, Airam."

When did things get so complicated?