A/N If a part of this seem familiar, it's because I wrote a separate story for BSN challenge 'assassin training' but then I decided to include it here, with only few minor changes. I have a different name on BSN and I don't want to be accused of plagiarising... myself. o)

Thanks to my dearest Brelaina for beta-reading this

Rise Again

He yawned and slowly got up. The others should be back from another lunch with the nobles soon.

It was surprising, but their stay in Denerim was becoming even more boring than their stay in Redcliffe. The lunches with nobles were excruciating, and after attending two or three he started to carefully plan excuses for any others. The Wardens really didn't need him there, except perhaps for moral support, and Airam always gave him that knowing and irritated look when he came up with another excuse, but it was for the better. He liked the crazy kid, but not this much, he decided after a whole afternoon in the middle of giggling women. If he heard one more lame attempt at an ambiguous joke about his dagger, he would have to show the fool just how sharp it was. Unambiguously. And that probably wouldn't help their case, so it was really in everyone's best interest that he stayed away.

At least Airam had sense enough to insist on free evenings, otherwise he would probably yawn himself to death. The only others that stayed behind were Morrigan and Shale and one could only stand so many acerbic remarks before going crazy and running away screaming. So he spent his time wandering around the city, listening to gossip, keeping an ear out if there was anything about the Wardens or Loghain. He even hired a few urchins to do the same. Once they left the town, they would report to Jowan, who wasn't as hopeless as he seemed, if instructed properly.

If only they could be on their way already. But they were to stay for one more week, not only because of the nobles, but also because Erwin insisted they should be well prepared for the journey to Orzammar.

"The journey there is long," he said, "And I suggest you keep off the main roads, as you did until now, so it will be even longer. And Orzammar... I've only been there once, and, well... dwarves are really different folk to us. Better be ready for complications."

It made sense, annoying as it was. So they started packing everything that might be handy; Bodahn would be travelling with them till the village at the Pass to trade with dwarves, so they could store part of the luggage in his wagon. They also needed to replenish their stock of food. Airam refused to touch lamb meat for at least the next two years, so Erwin provided them with smoked beef and even dry-cured pork ham, right from Antiva. He almost kissed the man when he found out. With a few jars of pickled olives and some Antivan spices he discovered at the market, he was even more eager to start their travel.

And he made some other preparations as well. He secretly went to the Wonders of Thedas to order a set of robes with trousers, with a matching hood, gloves and boots, all made of first-class soft leather, embedded with lyrium. And Bodahn agreed, after some convincing, to let his boy add some enchantments to it for free. Even Orlesian archmages would envy Airam in those. They would be ready in four days.

There was only one problem with it. He had no idea how to give presents.

Mad barking from outside told him – and the whole neighbourhood – that the crazy kid was back at last. He grinned, satisfied. Finally, some fun.

oOo

Airam was quite a sight like this, his normally white skin flushed, covered in a sweat that only accentuated his muscles. It was one of the reasons he was always looking forward to their training, though it was also a bit of a torture, to see him like this and yet be unable to touch him.

"So… did I… improve?" Asked Airam, still breathless.

"Yes, I must say you improved quite a bit," he agreed, "Especially compared to that scrawny clumsy mageling you were when we started." He smiled inwardly at the memory – it was in the Frostback Mountains, where he discovered that their fearless little leader was as impractical as one could be.

Erwin had warned them they must avoid using magic in public at any cost. Loghain was doing all he could to convince the people that the Grey Wardens were bloody murderers; if Airam or any of his followers were seen casting a spell on a citizen, Loghain would use it to prove his point. Even if said citizen was a bandit, he could easily say that in that case a court was to decide, not the Grey Wardens.

Wynne accepted that without problem. Morrigan was furious and refused to leave Erwin's estate unless absolutely necessary, counting the days till their departure. Airam took it as a reason to start training fighting with daggers. I must not be helpless again, he explained as his eagerness.

It wasn't truly necessary. After Airam's little chat with Ignacio about the Antivan export taxes, it was decided that during their stay Zevran would be 'responsible for all matters concerning safety and security of the Grey Wardens', which meant in fact that he was now Airam's bodyguard. Needless to say that he would never let his favourite Warden to come to any harm.

But knowing the basics should be useful for anyone. And it was fun. And he got to see him shirtless. All pluses, as far as he was concerned.

"Zevran. Are you listening?"

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you will train me as an assassin, now that I know the basics?"

"What?"

Airam raised an eyebrow at him. "Something wrong with your ears? Shall I call Wynne?"

"No and no, I will not train you as an assassin."

That answer didn't make the crazy kid very happy. "I could simply order you to do so."

"Then I would simply have to disobey."

They glared at each other equally annoyed.

"Besides, who said you already knew the basics? I can't remember ever saying such nonsense. That you can hold daggers without impaling yourself on them the next second does not make you a rogue."

It was not quite true. The being Airam freed in the lair of werewolves somehow imprinted its memories and knowledge of fighting on him. At first it wasn't much use, because knowing how something should be done and actually being able to do it were two quite different things, of course. But he was much stronger and dexterous now, and when they started training with daggers, he 'remembered' things, tricks and little details.

Still, even with this inherited expertise, one week was still one week – compared to the Crow apprentices Airam might have an advantage and would be already on the level that the apprentices would reach after two or three months. But from the point of view of a full Crow, it was more or less a negligible difference. Though it would not be wise to say that to the crazy kid.

Airam lifted his chin provocatively. "Tch, you're just jealous, because you can't learn to become a mage. So what else do I need to learn, as a rogue, before you start to take me seriously?"

Well now... Airam already proved that he knew a bit about sneaking – and how do you think we managed to hide from the Templar, was his amused reply when he tried to teach him that. And last week, just before they reached Denerim, he managed to disarm a large shrapnel trap. True, by the time he did it all the bandits were long dead and they were around him, waiting for him to finish finally, but the important thing was that he did it.

"Lock picking," he said at last.

"You didn't know that before you joined us, either – and you were an assassin already. Or so you claimed."

"Oho! Doubting the skills of your master? What a cheeky apprentice you are. That will not do. Twenty five sit-ups."

Airam glared at him, but complied. That was the agreement: during the trainings, he was in charge and Airam obeyed. "I still think – you're just jealous," he panted as he sat up. "Besides – I can unlock – better than you."

"Oh, is that so? We shall see." He looked around. The only thing that could be locked was the chest in which he stored their training weapons and a few other things. It would do. He went to it and locked it, and ostentatiously waved the key in front of the boy's nose.

"After you finish your sit-ups, you can go on and try, then. But if you don't unlock it, you'll be doing sit-ups the whole evening."

"Hmph." The boy finished the sit-ups smirking. Then he got up and walked over to the chest. "Ooooh this is going to be difficult! Oh noes! How am I going to do this, when I'm just a poor, poor mage?" He frowned in mock dilemma – and snapped his fingers.

There was distinctive click! and the lid of the chest sprang up.

"What was that?"

"I unlocked the chest, like you wanted." There was infuriatingly smug grin on the boy's face. "Don't tell me it never occurred to you that mages would have a spell for that?"

"And when did you learn that spell?"

"Oh, years ago –"

"Years ago." He narrowed his eyes. "You made me try to pick that lock in those dirty ruins for an hour!"

"That was because you lied to me! Don't forget that!"

"And ever since, I wasted one hour of my precious life every day trying to learn it –" He moved forward, and Airam quickly backed away, laughing.

"Because it's useful to know it! Think of all the things we found!"

"Oh? You mean those torn trousers, spoiled potions and mouldy herbs? Yes, that was really worth it." He scowled, taking another step forward.

"We found also many interesting things! Runes! That little dagger you like – and besides, it's not just for opening chests – "

"Too late for that! I demand satisfaction. Draw your weapons, Grey Warden," he exclaimed dramatically Airam laughed, relieved to see that he wasn't really angry.

They sparred and for a while, Airam was able to parry each of his blows. Brows furrowed and biting his lips, the boy was fully concentrated, still aware of every movement, every step, the way he was breathing, all the little details that were second nature for any real rogue. Yet, against a common thug he would do fine. But not against a Crow.

Especially when he had no intention to play fair. If the crazy kid wanted to be a rogue, let alone an assassin, he must learn to fight dirty. He pretended to move right, and the boy reacted, just as he taught him. This time, however, he didn't do his usual move. Instead he stepped aside and used the moment of surprise to kick him in the groin. Hard. But such was life, yes?

"Bastard!" hissed Airam, crouching in pain, forgetting all about the fight. The next moment, he was pinned to the ground, unable to move and with both his hands held firmly above his head.

"Got you," he smirked, but then hesitated. Airam was staring at him, or rather through him, eyes darkened with fear – no. Not fear. Pure despair.

I must not be helpless again, Airam's words echoed in his mind. Again.

He cursed inwardly as several pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked together. Why didn't he realize it ages ago? He quickly stepped aside.

"Airam, are you all right?"

The boy blinked and his eyes became focused again. "I – I'm fine," he said in flat voice. "Sorry, Zev, I shouldn't have panicked like that. I guess I'm tired."

He got up embarrassed and humiliated, avoiding his gaze.

Who hurt you, Airam? Was it someone in the Tower? Or was it before?

"You were right – I'm not a rogue, I'll never be one, I – I won't bother you any more, I promise."

Head still hung down, he went towards the door. That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't wish to break him. To see him like this – defeated, humble, no, that wasn't his crazy kid.

"No, wait."

Who hurt you, bello mio? I will kill them all.

Airam stopped, turning his head back a little, but still avoiding his eyes. He walked over to him and lifted his chin.

"The first and the most important thing that an assassin must learn is to hide his fear."

oOo

He was becoming more and more nervous by each step, clutching the parcel under his arm. And now what? When should he do it? Tonight? Tomorrow? Or just before they leave? What should he say? Brasca, this was more complicated than preparing for an assassination.

The moment he stepped out on the market, one of the urchins he was employing ran up to him. "Message for you, Ser," he said loudly, giving him some paper. "I heard some guards talking about it and they said it's 'bout them Wardens, so I took it when they weren't watching," he added more quietly.

It was some kind of poster, with a terrible picture of what he presumed must had been a griffin on it. Don't believe the lies! Friends of the Grey Wardens assemble. The hidden pearl holds the key to resistance. The griffons will rise again! - it said. He stared at it in pure disbelief. Surely nobody could be that stupid to expect this would work? And if someone indeed was that stupid, then –

He looked at the urchin with a wide grin. "You did a great job," he said. "Thank you for the delivery, I will not send back the answer," he said a bit louder, pressing a few silver coins into the kid's hand. This was definitely worth it.

The last few days were rather gloomy at Erwin's estate. Alistair was as quiet and depressed as ever since the visit to his sister's, which apparently went even worse than Airam feared, though he didn't want to tell any details.

And Airam… Ever since that training four days ago, Airam would tense whenever he tried to talk with him, probably worried he would ask about what happened. As if he didn't have a pretty good idea already. Sure, he didn't know any concrete details yet… but he would, sooner or later, and then whoever did it would regret they were born. That could be done without bothering his friend.

Whoever was behind this pathetic attempt of a lure gave him a perfect opportunity to distract the glorious Wardens of Ferelden from their brooding.

oOo

Airam was exhausted and grumpy when he went to see him. He was still in the fancy clothes Erwin and Leliana forced him to wear for meetings with nobles, though they looked rather dishevelled now, as if he was sleeping in them. Which he probably did.

"Next time you want assassinate me? Just lock me in a room with a bunch of nobles. After two hours, I'll gladly kill myself just to escape."

"Duly noted, my friend."

"So, is there anything you need? Not that I don't like your company but I need some rest before you start to torture me with sit-ups again."

"Actually, that is why I am here. What would you say to a bit of different training tonight? Some real action?"

Airam looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Well… I found this. It seems rather suspicious, no?" He handed him the poster. "I know for sure this is a trap for the supporters of the Grey Wardens. I think we should not leave that be. So what would you say to going and kicking some asses?"

"But we don't know where it is… hidden pearl… it could mean anything."

"Tch. You underestimate my skills again. I know exactly what that 'pearl' is. In fact, it is not hidden at all. In fact, it is one of the most famous places in Denerim."

"Hm. Most famous, is it? So where is it? You know we're not supposed to go to the Palace Quarters –"

He chuckled. "Oh, you need not worry. It is nowhere near the Palace Quarters… Now that I think of it, maybe you should not go there, after all. I am sure Wynne would strongly disagree. It is dangerous… in many senses of the word. Especially for someone as innocent as you."

That of course made the crazy kid all energetic, just as he wanted. "Dangerous? What is it? Where is it? Never mind, you'll tell me on the way. Let's go!"

"Oh? I thought you wanted some rest? Perhaps we should leave it for tomorrow, yes? It is quite dangerous, you will need to be strong – "

"Zevran."

"Well, if you insist… But we need to be prepared. I'll go get Alistair… and I think we should take Sten, as well. And Rask. You get ready. Take your daggers as well – you should be able to fight with magic, but just in case."

Airam was nodding eagerly, already pulling out the things he might need from the trunk. He didn't have many robes, only three, in fact. One was that ugly standard robes of a Circle mage – orange and blue, looked more like a nightgown than anything else. The second he received after the Joining, as he explained – which would be better if it wasn't grey, which looked horrible with his white skin. And the last one was from Eamon, made in the style of the Tevinter magisters, that he was always wearing these days, unless he went to meet with the nobles.

Besides that he had a small collection of belts and sashes, and a few pairs of those ridiculous cloth shoes and gloves, mostly what they found during their travels, all of them old and none really fitting. No wonder the crazy kid didn't really care about the clothes.

But that was hardly an excuse for the mess in that trunk. He winced when he saw in what state some of the things Airam took out were in, throwing them on the floor unceremoniously. Tch. It seemed from now on he would have to include discipline and tidiness in their lessons. But that could wait for tomorrow.

oOo

An hour or so later, they were already hurrying through the evening streets, their faces and weapons hidden under hooded cloaks. Airam also had his face powdered to a more usual tone and was wearing a wig. With long hair he really looked much better, as he pointed out when he first saw it and was amused to see the boy shoot furtive satisfied glances to the mirror.

"So... are you finally going to tell us where are we going? What is this 'pearl'?" Alistair looked at him curiously.

"So impatient, my friend. Very well. The Pearl is a brothel."

"You mean they set their headquarters in a brothel? Why would they do something so stupid? No, I don't think that's right. You didn't decipher it correctly." Airam shook his head wisely.

"I agree. Grey Wardens in a brothel? Who would ever believe such nonsense," agreed Alistair angrily.

"Well if you find it offends your intelligence or honour of the Grey Wardens, it is one more reason to get rid of these fools, no? Besides, I investigated it a bit when I found out -"

"You did?" Airam sounded honestly surprised, and he arched his eyebrow in reply.

"Doubting my skills again, are you?"

"But you said no sit-ups today, remember that." There was again that smug grin on Airam's face.

"True, but there are other means to punish a wayward apprentice. Let me see. Ah, yes. First thing tomorrow morning, I will check your trunk and backpack, and I expect everything neat and tidy. If I find it in the same state it is now, I will be very displeased. You will beg for good old sit-ups."

Alistair burst into laughing. "That bad, is it?"

"And what are you laughing at, Ser 'if it's dry, it's clean'?" Airam made a face at the Chantry boy, who should really learn when to stay quiet. "Tell you what, after Zevran finishes inspecting my things, he'll go and check yours. And that's an order."

"What? You can't do that -"

"Parshaara. Do you never stop blabbering? Enough of this."

Sten's outburst was so unexpected it made both the Wardens shut up immediately. He couldn't help laughing at their shocked expressions.

"What else did you find out?" asked Sten, ignoring the two.

"Those so-called friends are most likely paid to lure any supporters of the Grey Wardens. But we do have some real friends there – yes, Alistair, in the brothel. The proprietor, a charming woman called Sanga, even offered a discount... so if you wish to get some more experience, now you can."

"You know, I think Sten is right. You should stick to the subject," snapped Alistair, already blushing.

"Well, there seem to be four of these 'friends', and two of them are those Qunari that are not really Qunari –"

"Tal Vashoth," grumbled Sten.

"Exactly. A few days ago they rented one of the rooms in the Pearl to organize the supporters of the Grey Wardens in their opposition to the Teyrn, as they say. But those unlucky fellows that met with them were taken somewhere and never returned home. Luckily it seems not many were stupid enough to be lured. Still, if we do not stop it, soon there will be rumours that the Grey Wardens know and allowed it to happened. And that wouldn't do, yes?"

"Do you know how many people they tricked?" Airam was now serious, no trace of joke in his voice.

"Four or five. But the good thing is that Sanga promised her guards will not see or hear anything if the fight is in the room. Which means it will not be 'in public' and there will be no 'witnesses'."

"Good. Let's teach Loghain that he can't fool with the Wardens, then."

oOo

The brothel looked surprisingly good. For Ferelden, that is. It wasn't nearly enough decorated for Antivan's brothels, though. But he had to admit that the offer wasn't too bad. The business hours had barely started and the lounge was still full of whores, men and women of all races, that were waiting for their clients. Four men like them were bound to attract a lot of curious looks and offers. Especially Alistair, the only human among them – that the cloak made him look noble and mysterious at the same time also helped there.

Poor Chantry boy was blushing like a rose even before they reached Sanga, and the shade was deepening steadily as they followed her directions to the room with their 'friends'. They had to pass by several rooms, and judging by the sounds, some of them were already occupied. Good thing that the doors were closed; if the sounds were enough to make the poor Chantry boy this red, then the sight might have killed him on the spot.

"So this is where people in the city are brought for breeding. Must they be so noisy with it?"

They burst into such laughter that the noise in few of the nearest rooms suddenly stopped. Sten watched them with crossed arms, frowning. Airam had to lean on the wall, hiding his face in his arms, and Alistair's face now had the deepest shade of crimson. Though it might have been caused by all the choking.

"Breeding, as you call it, is in fact rather discouraged here," he explained. "Though accidents happen, sometimes, of which I am a living proof."

"I do not understand. Why would these people have sex if they do not intend to breed?"

"For... pleasure? You've heard of such a thing, yes?"

"Pleasure. Are you talking nonsense on purpose? If you want to talk, use real words."

"You know, he's got a point," said Alistair, but quickly added, "Not that pleasure doesn't exist, of course, buuut... having sex just for pleasure, without love, without any wish to have some deeper bond with the person seems... wrong."

"But why? Surely even you..." he started, but then Airam cut in.

"I agree with Sten. I certainly don't see what all the fuss is about regarding sex," he said, shrugging. "But if you really want to discuss it, do it later. We have work to do now."

It probably shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. He expected the boy to say something cheeky, like he always did. Even if the cheekiness was just the pretence... or perhaps especially in such case. He had no doubt this was how Airam really felt about the matter; it would be understandable, considering what he found out during that training, but still...

"How should I know? Just try something."

"All right... what about... sausage?"

He blinked, suddenly realizing they were already in front of the door and were being asked for the password. Airam's guess was, of course, incorrect, and after a moment of shocked silence they could hear a long stream of curses behind the door.

"Sausage? In a brothel? What a dirty mind you have," he said, pushing the crazy kid aside. "Ehm... The griffons will rise again."

"Who's got a dirty mind? I'm just hungry. We skipped dinner for this mission," grumbled Airam, as the door opened.

As they walked in, one of the not-Qunaris – the name Sten gave them was just too long – silently locked the door behind them and remained standing there. Besides them there were two warriors, one a tiny elf, the other a huge human. I bet the elf is the clever one, the big ones are always stupid. It seemed the big guy was determined to prove he was right as soon as possible.

"Ah, another supporter of the Grey Wardens," he beamed. "Welcome, friends."

"I must say, you've got some weird friends, Al."

"Says the guy whose best friend is a maleficar."

He head to chuckle at the man's expression. Yes, those two definitely weren't what one would expect from the Grey Wardens. But even joking, they were already ready to fight – the air in the room was cooler already and Alistair had his hand on his sword. People should really stop underestimating them.

"No, Paedan, have a better look. The smaller one, he looks just like the Warden on the posters. That's him, that's the guy Arl Howe wants."

"I am a Warden too, you know." Alistair pouted. "But I will forgive you for giving us the name of your employer."

"You can forgive us from the cell in Arl Howe's dungeon. You've got one chance to surrender." The fool obviously still didn't understand the danger.

"We refuse," declared Airam merrily.

"Better think of it, Warden! We are not common guards, we're Arl Howe's best men."

"But not the brightest, I see." Airam rolled his eyes and turned to the tiny elf. "Can't we cut out all the compliments and end this? I really have a lot of better things to do than dealing with you."

"I agree. Paedan, as you can see, this one refuses to surrender and tries to resist. We might have to kill him."

"Well then, let's kill our own Warden!" Paedan charged into attack and the others followed.

They were all sword fighters. Fools. They had to know that the Warden was a mage. Without any mage on their side, they would have a big disadvantage. Not that he was complaining about that. Now that the crazy kid mentioned it, he realised he was quite hungry as well. The sooner this nonsense was over the better.

"What? Why always me? Alistair's a Warden, too!" Airam's spell was long ready by now, and the tiny elf woman was frozen in an instant.

"Oh, it's always so heart-warming to find out you have a friend," chuckled Alistair, shattering her in one blow. But did that stop the rest of the fools? Of course not.

"Not a friend. - Hey, you big oaf! Why don't you fight someone of your size!" Airam glared at the non-Qunari that attacked Rask and immediately cast another freezing spell.

Paedan stopped, hesitating – and it was all he needed to sneak behind him and drive his daggers, coated with poison, into his back.

"As I was saying, Al. We're not friends, we're brothers."

Alistair grinned. "Of course we are... Wait, that's all? Wow, we're fast!"

Sten just ran his sword through the second Qunari, and Paedan was already squirming in agony on the floor. The poison would kill him within one minute.

"We are not just fast, my friend. We, are ridiculously awesome."

"You know, I love it when you say that." Airam was grinning widely. "Let's see if we can find some proof that these fools worked under Howe's orders."

"I doubt it," he said, "Howe wouldn't be that stupid, to put such order on paper... ah." He shut up as Airam triumphantly took a letter with Howe's seal from Paedan's pocket.

"You know, we Fereldans are not like you Antivan barbarians, with your 'no problemo' attitude. We do things properly. Everything must be on paper, signed and with a seal, or it doesn't exist." Alistair laughed.

"Oh, I see. Maker be praised for Fereldan bureaucracy, then. Now, we should discuss the room cleaning service with Sanga, yes?"

oOo

Sanga agreed to take care of the bodies, but it wasn't for free. Naturally. He didn't expect it to be, but Airam wasn't very happy when she asked them to 'remove' the group of mercenaries that were staying in the brothel, scaring away guests and ruining business. All under the pretence of 'protection', for which they expected quite a high fee.

"So... you want us to kill them?"

"No no no, my young friend," she replied with a smile, "You misunderstood. The matter you solved was different, those... clients were in a closed room and here nobody asks what's going on in a room once the door is closed. But these, as you can see, are in the main lounge. In fact I would much prefer it if you solved this without a fight. I do not wish to terrify my clients even more."

That seemed to calm down Airam a bit. "All right, then. Let's get this over with."

When he politely asked the mercenaries to leave, they just laughed. Their leader slowly got up, obviously trying to impress the boy with sheer size.

"Get lost, knife-ear. Unless you want to offer yourself for entertain...ment..." the man's voice trailed off as he looked at Airam. He couldn't see the boy's face, but he'd bet his eyes were black again.

"Hundreds have died in my wake." Airam's voice was so menacing even he was scared, and a quick glance at the others told him they felt just as uncomfortable. "You are just a number for me. If you want to play..."

"N-no, no, I think we had enough fun already," said the man quickly. "Come on guys, we're leaving. This place doesn't need our protection, it seems."

The men grumbled and complained, but the leader ignored them, keeping his eyes on Airam as if he expected the boy would lose his patience at any moment and tear him apart. Which, in fact, wasn't that unlikely, as it was clear Airam was trying hard to suppress his fury.

"Before you leave, go and pay Sanga. Lost profit as well."

The leader looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and obediently went to pay their debt. Needless to say Sanga was more than impressed, and assured them repeatedly that they were always welcome in the Pearl and that they would get a big discount, should they ever decide –

"Yes, yes, we get it. But I don't think we'll need it," grumbled Alistair.

"Ah, speak for yourself, my friend, yes?" He chuckled.

They were about to leave, when a group of guardsmen came in. Brasca. This was truly an unpleasant complication. He quickly assessed their situation – to kill some fools or to drive away mercenaries was fine, but killing guards was something entirely different. Especially in front of this many witnesses. Even if Sanga kept quiet, someone would sell them, that was sure. It would be best if they could get away as quickly and quietly as possible.

It almost seemed they would manage it, when two guardsmen came to Airam. "Sergeant would like to talk to you, Warden," one of them said – quietly and rather politely. Well now. This was interesting.

The soldiers took them into one of the small lounges. Good. No witnesses, should the Sergeant decide to make problems. But it turned out he was quite sensible.

"Greetings, Warden. Sergeant Kylon of the City Guard. Please do not worry. I just wanted to assure you that not all City Guards are happy with Howe's rule, and that many of us – perhaps even most of us – do not believe the Teyrn's accusations about the Grey Wardens. And also that I really appreciate how you solved the problem with those mercenaries, without any killing. Thank you."

Airam blinked, confused, and he couldn't blame him. This was the last thing any of them would expect from a Sergeant of the City Guard.

"Ah... you are welcome. And thank you... But... how did you know I'm a Warden?"

"We all got the posters with your appearance. I must say the sketch didn't do you much justice," explained Kylon almost apologetically.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"Well, for some reason, you have white skin and violet hair on the sketch. It is ridiculous, really. I guess it was someone's bad idea of a joke."

They all just stared at him, for a moment. He quickly glanced at Airam, but he didn't seem angry – in fact, he looked almost happy. Crazy kid, really.

"That's just rude," said Alistair angrily, but before he could say anything else, Airam quickly cut in.

"I agree. Now that you know the truth, would you be so kind and inform all the guards about it? I really don't appreciate the idea of being considered as some ridiculous monster."

It was Kylon's turn to look surprised. "Are you sure? It can, after all, help you..."

"Ah, you know how important image is for young men," he said with a wink, which made Alistair chuckle. Airam decided to ignore it.

Finally, after some more compliments and phrases, they were on their way back to the Erwin's, laughing at everything that happened. Even Sten was smiling a bit.

"Yes, and now that we've dealt with this minor issue, we can return to more important matters, yes?"

Airam looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the disciplinary action for your cheekiness earlier. Tomorrow morning at six, me and Sten will make a thorough inspection of all your things, my Wardens. And let me repeat – you do not wish to displease us."

"What? You can't do that!"

"I remember you saying that earlier, Al. It must be really bad, if you protest so much. And besides, I already made it an order. If I have to do it, then you have to do it as well."

"This from my brother. You know, I think I want to be an only child."

Yes, this was much better. It seemed tomorrow would be a very funny day. He grinned inwardly – then he remembered the package, now safely closed in his own trunk. He still had no idea how he should give it to Airam. Brasca. Tomorrow would be a very difficult day...