CODEX

Kettle Helmet – a hatlike helmet with a wide brim, usually worn by footsoldiers

Denerim

Watching Leliana in action was like watching a glorious musical play. The notes of her recent machinations rose and fell in beautiful rhythm, building to a chorus and then drifting off into subtle silence. She was easy on the eyes too…but such a tease.

Along with the bard, Zevran now hunkered down in the darkness atop a building that overlooked the Magister's Shield. Black cloaks kept them hidden and protected them from the growing patter of rain. Watching the hideout for the impending attack, Zev could not help but notice how Leliana had changed over the months. At first, he thought she would be easy prey – silly, naïve and vulnerable, but there was steel in her heart underneath that healthy bosom. He had seen that steel grow since they stood before the altar of Andraste in Haven. The elf had never considered himself much of a believer, but that whole scene rattled him.

"Leliana," he said softly, his voice barely audible above the rain. "I thought it magnificent how you altered the Orlesian letter that the Warden got from Ostagar. Reusing Celene's seal…brilliant."

She giggled a little, showing a little of her old, silly self. "I'm glad you thought so. I spent a lot of time getting Marjorlaine to follow all of my routines. You think I wouldn't be so dumb as to use all of our old codes and craft, huh? And I knew she would be too proud to tell Howe anything before she wrapped me up."

"Do you not miss her? I mean, you two were very close, no?"

In an instant, the bard's face changed and she shot him a look that spoke daggers. "No…it was all a lie."

"So, what Howe is doing to her…you don't-"

"No, I don't."

Zev knew enough to let it go at that point. They still might have an hour or so to go before Howe would make his move on the Magister's Shield and there was no sense in creating unnecessary tension. He was all for keeping things light. He adjusted his seating as his foot had fallen asleep and the rain water was pooling around him. Perhaps a little quiet might be good. He leaned back against a brick chimney and sighed, letting his mind take him back some months. It seemed like forever since his merry band of Crows had tried to kill the Warden. Now, he could not imagine anything other than the camp – the roaring fires, the Warden's crazy hound, the taciturn hunk of rock called Shale and even Morrigan's scathing comments. He chuckled to himself. The world had changed so much in so short a time.

Zev was getting nostalgic. Not the proper attitude for an assassin. He lifted his face into the rain and felt the pelting drops on his skin. It felt good. It made him feel alive. He wiped the water from his eyes and remembered everyone's every move in camp after he had been captured. For his own survival, he needed to know where everyone was…what everyone felt. That was his skill as a Crow – to know and to use to get the job done. Keep his options open, as he liked to say.

Still, he had made an oath and he meant to keep it as long as it kept him alive. Much to his surprise, the Warden made that easy. On more than one occasion, she could have let him die in the heat of battle, but she never failed to come to his aid. In that cursed tower of mages, he had been badly wounded by the horror of the possessed Uldred. It was the Warden that nursed him back to health. He could still feel her hand on his forehead, wiping away the sweat of the fever. Of course, gentle flirting ensued – he could have done no less. Then, he orchestrated a 'chance' meeting down by the river. She looked so tense. There had been so much pressure on her. He offered a massage.

"Stop it," he whispered to himself. "Don't torture yourself." He felt the rain again on his face.

Leliana looked back. "What? Did you say something?"

He forced out his usual chuckle. "Me? Oh, no, I was just humming a tune to pass the time," he said and she turned back to watch the building. Zev closed his fists and dug his nails into his palms. He couldn't help himself. The Warden's big blue eyes haunted him like a ghost. The way she sighed when he dug his fingers into the knots in her bare shoulders. It was all so easy. This was what Zev did best. He could have even claimed the reward on her life if he so chose. When he laid her down on the grass though, he saw something that he had not seen in years…trust. He could drink of that look for years and still be thirsty. But, it would all be just fun, he told himself. And it was, for a time.

Worse, he knew she eventually became involved with another – with a prince. And then Zevran Arainai did the stupidest thing he had ever done in his wanton life, he told her that he wanted to be the only one even though he knew what the answer was already. He could still hear his forced chuckle to her after. Ah, well, it was steamy while it lasted, no?

A lump formed in his throat and he wished he could take back that moment in time. As he was about to indulge in more self pity, he heard a sharp, "Psssst! Hey, wake up. Howe's men are about to go in."

"Huh? Oh, yes, of course. We've been waiting all night for this. How silly of me."

Soldiers in mail wearing the surcoats of the Arl of Denerim gathered under the eaves of nearby buildings to stay out of the rain, but water still dripped down from the brims of their kettle helmets. An officer came up to order them forward and they inched through the mud, brandishing axes and swords.

Leliana settled down, leaning over the ledge to get a good view. "Two birds with one stone…I love it. It's like The Game, all over again. That fact that Marjorlaine's friends are inside makes it so much the better."

The soldiers burst in, setting off a trap that had been put in the doorway. Blast and bits of nails and debris tore the first two men to bits, knocking another back. The officer waved more men in and they charged through, the sounds of battle erupting soon after. Screams and the clang of swordplay wafted upwards and Zev picked his teeth with a small wooden stick, enjoying two enemies destroying each other. The chorus of the melee soon began to die away and it was time to act. "Ah, is the foreplay over? I'm ready to put it in," he said, licking the blade of his shortsword before he poured poison on it.

Leli actually winked. "There are some times I appreciate your depraved humor."

"Why, I'm honored."

"I said some times. Don't get a fat head. Come, let's go."

They shimmied down a gutter and sauntered into the Magister's Shield to find dead soldiers and blood mages scattered throughout the room. "Marjorlaine was dealing with blood mages? Oh, nasty bunch. Better off dead," Zevran said, stepping over the corpses. They followed the fading sounds of fighting down a hall and through another door, where they saw a man in crimson robes point his finger at Howe's officer. Blood erupted from the soldier's eyes and ears and he screamed in agony.

The elf set to charge at the blood mage and crouched low, but the mage saw him and waved his hand, throwing Zev into a wall. The impact rattled his brain and he dropped his sword and dagger. He heard Leli yelp and grabbed the first weapon he could find, a dead soldier's bow. "A bow? I'm no good with a bow."

"Zev, just do something!"

On instinct, he rushed at the mage, but at an angle. The mage swung his hand towards him, but the Crow slid under the path of the spell and swatted the caster in the groin with the bow. The blood mage squealed and crumpled to the floor.

Leli quickly slit his throat with her knife and then looked back up at Zev. "You could have just shot him."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

"Okay, you got me there."

Zev heard a movement behind them and he turned, nocking an arrow with fumbling hands.

"Hey, don't shoot! It's me, Sergeant Kylon," a man, wearing the uniform of the city guard, said. "You can lower your bow, Zevran. And besides, your arrow is backwards."

The elf looked down at his bow. "Oh, haha, so it is."

The sergeant glanced at the carnage around him. "Oh, thank the Maker, you killed those blood mages. The city will be better off without them."

"So, did you bring the gifts for Howe and Loghain?"

"I did, yes, although I can't for the life of me understand what you need nugs for?"

Leliana and Zevran chuckled together, saying in unison, "Ahhh, nugs."

Kylon pulled in a crate that was rocking and squealing and set it down on the floor and then pushed in a drunken dwarf, frocked in the finest gown and high heels, his beard dripping with ale. "The Warden has the strangest sense of humor, I swear. Still, I would never want to cross her."

Zev nodded. "That is wise," he said as he pushed the transvestite dwarf over and sat him down on the body of Howe's officer. "There, there, Vartag, just you rest now. We'll get you some more ale soon."

Kylon made a curious face. "Just who is this dwarf?"

"Vartag Gavorn. He worked for Prince Bhelen and crossed the Warden."

"Ah, right, understood."

The elf wrapped Vartag in a whip, applied lipstick and covered him in shaving cream and then set about a number of sensuous toys that he had borrowed from the Pearl, including the dreaded insertion/extraction tool. "Okay, almost done."

The sergeant shook his head. "I…don't want to know."

Lastly, Zev pinned a note onto Vartag's gown and opened the crate of nugs. "There we go. Now, let's get out of here."

They scrambled back out and up the gutter, helping Kylon into their little nest above the building. Soon enough, Loghain and Howe came running with their guards. Through a small hole in the roof, they peered down into the blood mage chamber. "Ah, this will be good," Zev said with a chuckle.

Howe led the way in, looking at the carnage, brandishing his two shortswords as he entered. "Blighted Andraste! What the…?" he exclaimed as a nug jumped in his face. He hurled it away, the nug squealing through the air.

Loghain followed soon after, his eyes big with surprise and anger. "Where are the Warden's followers? What is this? All I see are dead blood mages and…this!"

Howe shook his head. "I…I don't know, Your Grace," he said as he kicked another nug out of the way and picked up the insertion tool. "There's a note – insert foot in ass. Use the extraction tool if you experience stuckage. Stuckage? Is that even a word?"

The regent seized the tools and flung them away in a rage. "What is this? The coup attempt that you foresaw…nothing but drunken White Falcon mercenaries told to meet whores outside the palace!" he yelled as he walked up to Vartag. The dwarf burped and began mumble singing some dwarven nonsense. Loghain tore the note off of the dress.

Love and kisses,

Warden Cousland.

Loghain closed his eyes and closed his fists for a minute, the veins in his neck appearing about ready to burst. Then, his eyes shot open and the color drained from his face. "Oh, Maker…the army…and Cauthrien. I have to return to the army now!"

Zevran and the others watched as the regent and the others rushed from the Magister's Shield, leaving squealing nugs and a senseless Vartag to wander about the room. Zev lay back, tasting the rain on his lips. "I love it when a plan comes together. Now, the Warden just has to do her part," he said and let himself indulge in her memory once more.