*drags topic back*
Olwaye, Miliat and Sandi - Thanks for your interest. I realise our favourite men (Aedan and Alistair) will be absent from this little story, but it's good to try new things, right? I just hope my little plot works out.
FanFiction/Art - Final Chapter (Aedan), (12/27) Interludes
Débuté par
Sisimka
, févr. 25 2010 05:06
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#577
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 05:38
Sandtigress
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More Alistair for me!! Ahem....I mean....yay, I love Zevran?
#578
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 05:43
Olwaye
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Hey, Zev is great to (wich is why I like to "hang out" with him as a greek chorus 
) I am glad to read something about him.
I do think that by the time you've finish with his side of the story he will nned a fluff week just for him
(wich might be provided in the "other" place )
) I am glad to read something about him.I do think that by the time you've finish with his side of the story he will nned a fluff week just for him
(wich might be provided in the "other" place )
#579
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 06:03
Sisimka
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I have actually written Zev for the meme and it was FLUFFY! I'm working on a second Zev piece for it that is more naughty/funny.
#580
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 06:19
Apophis2412
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Let's try something on-topic for a change:
Writing about Zevran seems difficult. To me he always appeared as a very conflicted person. At his core he is nothing more than a cold blooded killer, who has been trained since early childhood to feel no remorse and kill people without question.
In a way he must have realized and abhorred this. In my opinion, that is why he was so easygoing and flirted with any women he saw. It was a facade he projected and in doing so he tried to deny what he really was.
When he was ordered to assassinate the Warden he first expected it to be just another job. Yet when his target not only showed mercy, but even offered him the gift of friendship or love, something changed within Zevran. Whether he returned these feelings or not, joining the Warden was the escape from his old life Zevran was looking for. By following the Warden he could do more than deny his past, he could forget it.
In a way he is not that different from Oghren. Both have failed at life and the only thing they’re good at is killing. Both hide their failings behind a facade, be it flirting or drinking. And last but not least, both joined the Warden because it was the only place they could find peace.
Writing about Zevran seems difficult. To me he always appeared as a very conflicted person. At his core he is nothing more than a cold blooded killer, who has been trained since early childhood to feel no remorse and kill people without question.
In a way he must have realized and abhorred this. In my opinion, that is why he was so easygoing and flirted with any women he saw. It was a facade he projected and in doing so he tried to deny what he really was.
When he was ordered to assassinate the Warden he first expected it to be just another job. Yet when his target not only showed mercy, but even offered him the gift of friendship or love, something changed within Zevran. Whether he returned these feelings or not, joining the Warden was the escape from his old life Zevran was looking for. By following the Warden he could do more than deny his past, he could forget it.
In a way he is not that different from Oghren. Both have failed at life and the only thing they’re good at is killing. Both hide their failings behind a facade, be it flirting or drinking. And last but not least, both joined the Warden because it was the only place they could find peace.
#581
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 06:34
Sisimka
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Very nice Apophis, you have summed up many of my own feelings towards Zevran. He always becomes my PCs best friend, I cannot resist him. I'm really looking forward to exploring some of his conflicted feelings towards his past, present and future with this story. Here's hoping I can pull it off!
#582
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 07:04
Olwaye
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Good points Apophis, Zevran and Oghren are always good friends with my PC's too, they are fun to be around, but there is more to them than just a drunk warrior and a deviant assassin, they are both aware of their failure and of their own personal darkness and they take their chance to rise again without moping around, quite like Sten as well, for who I have a certain fondness too.
I like my heroes for their capacity of failing, and eventually rising up again, but the important part is that at one point they failed, it makes them more interseting, if you are familiar with Terry Pratchett's Discworld you will not be surprised to learn that my favourite character is Commander Samuel Vimes, a very complex character not unlike Oghren and Zev.
I like my heroes for their capacity of failing, and eventually rising up again, but the important part is that at one point they failed, it makes them more interseting, if you are familiar with Terry Pratchett's Discworld you will not be surprised to learn that my favourite character is Commander Samuel Vimes, a very complex character not unlike Oghren and Zev.
#583
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 07:18
Sisimka
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Olwaye wrote...
I like my heroes for their capacity of failing, and eventually rising up again, but the important part is that at one point they failed, it makes them more interseting
Me too, which is why I tend to write Aedan the way I do. He doesn't get to win all the time and he has to make the hard choices. I think that makes him more real than being the youngest son, born the same night as that one particular star shone in the sky and the witch of the west happened to be looking in the window and all that B.S.
I've read two Terry Pratchett novels, Going Postal and Good Omens, both uproariously funny books. I really should read more of his stuff.
What I see as the relationship between Zevran and Aedan is that Aedan respects and treats Zevran not only as a friend, but as a man, not a tool. But Zevran ends up becoming a tool of sorts because that's what he thinks he is and that's all he believes he has to offer.
Modifié par Sisimka, 05 avril 2010 - 07:24 .
#584
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 07:37
Olwaye
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Sisimka wrote...
What I see as the relationship between Zevran and Aedan is that Aedan respects and treats Zevran not only as a friend, but as a man, not a tool. But Zevran ends up becoming a tool of sorts because that's what he thinks he is and that's all he believes he has to offer.
Pretty much the way my favourite Warden see Zev as well, plus as Sten tell Shale in one party banter, Zev life as value but it's up to him to give it meaning, and that'swhat Zev got to learn eventually.
And let's not forget that Zevran is ridiculously awsome and promiscuous whta's not to like
I've read two Terry Pratchett novels, Going Postal and Good Omens, both uproariously funny books. I really should read more of his stuff.
There are over 30 novels to read, and they are funny, really funny, but there is a bit more to them as well than just funny fantasy books.
#585
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 08:35
Miri1984
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Can I just poke my head in here and say everyone needs to read EVERYTHING that Terry Pratchett has ever written. They are Magnificent.
#586
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 09:37
MireliA
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Miri1984 wrote...
Can I just poke my head in here and say everyone needs to read EVERYTHING that Terry Pratchett has ever written. They are Magnificent.
I love the Witches books he did. Great characters
And btw Sisi liked the Zev fic
He has more depth than people imagine...
#587
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 03:54
Sisimka
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Chapter Two
Zevran stared at the man in the cell, his brother. He had not seen his brother in ten years, not since Juilden had been recruited away from the Crows. Zevran remembered the flare of jealousy he’d felt toward his older sibling. The Brethren were not a secret organization, they were well known north of Ferelden and the oldest order of assassins in Thedas, founded in Tevinter. The Brethren only recruited the best.
They had not been terribly close as children. Though the brothers had been purchased together, the Crows had not encouraged such relationships. The Crows had not encouraged any relationships beyond the casual dalliance. They had been taught to harden their hearts. But they had always known they were brothers and there had always been an unspoken respect and agreement between them, a deeper level to the friendship they had enjoyed as young men. Though they had the same mother, Juilden’s father obviously had not been elven. They shared only the same eyes and a slight build eminently suited to a life in the shadows. It was natural that they had also shared the same profession. But Juilden’s lack of distinguishing features, his ability to blend with the crowd had set him apart. What better place to hide than in plain sight?
Zevran opened the cell and stepped inside. He stood before his brother and decided to try the first technique of interrogation he had ever learned, silence. A silence could be an awful void a guilty party could be enticed to fill, even with protestations of innocence. Once they started to talk, they found it hard to stop, and questions could be asked and answers sought.
He didn’t expect Juilden to respond to his silence, not really, but it gave him the time he need to further collect his thoughts. One in particular niggled: coincidence. Zevran did not believe in coincidence.
Juilden cleared his throat. “How long has it been, Zevran?” His voice rasped hoarsely and Zevran stepped outside the cell once more to fetch some water. Words came much more easily from a moistened throat.
His brother accepted the water without a word, simply as if it were his due, and drank it down placidly.
“Ten years, Juilden.” Zevran said when the cup had been put aside.
Juilden nodded as if considering this fact. Despite the looseness of his limbs, his body appeared otherwise sound, but Zevran sensed the man’s spirit was broken. This struck him oddly as he knew it couldn’t have been from the torture, Juilden had been this way beforehand and for a while.
Zevran entertained mixed feelings about this assumption. It felt familiar. It reminded him somewhat of the state he’d been in when he’d tried, and failed, to kill Aedan and Alistair. Juilden’s mind had not been on this job, or perhaps more accurately, his heart.
“Why did you allow yourself to get caught, Juilden?”
Juilden did not deny the implication of Zevran’s question; he merely looked at him with those dull brown eyes and shrugged. “We all get caught sooner or later, do we not? It seems you have risen far, Zevran, you are in the service of the King of Ferelden! Last we heard you had taken an impossible contract and failed. Tell me, how is it you come to serve your mark? Are you a rich man now? You always did have a taste for the finer things.”
Zevran pressed his lips together. So they had started another game, each seeking answers of the other and each deflecting with more questions. “I think you forget who is lying broken in the king’s dungeon and who is waiting for answers.”
“What answers to you seek, Zevran? You know who I am, what I am and why I am here.”
True, he did know these things, but he knew as well as Juilden that these were not the answers he sought. “Alright, let us talk of what we know then. There are at least two of you, however I suspect more.”
Juilden laughed - a dry, crackling sound. “You are ever the clever one, are you not?”
“We also know that whoever hired you has access to considerable resources, the Brethren are not inexpensive.” Zevran continued stating facts in a calm, measured tone. “What is not known is your target, perhaps. Though by all appearances you made a good attempt to kill Alistair, you did not succeed.”
A shadow passed over Juilden’s eyes and Zevran gained a small sense of satisfaction.
Juilden spoke then, his tone no longer mocking. “Alright Zevran, we can play this game all night, we both know how it goes. But as you can see,” he gestured weakly with his hand at his body, “I am not going to be of much use to the Brethren in the future. My career has ended.”
Zevran allowed a small smile. “So we come to the bargain portion of the evening, yes? Alright, why don’t you make me an offer and I will counter it.” He resisted the urge to rub his hands together.
“I know why you took that job, this job, Zevran. I know why you left Antiva and never came back. Perhaps I am here on a similar venture.”
This did and did not surprise Zevran. He’d recognised a kindred spirit, something besides their bond of blood. He nodded and gestured for Juilden to continue.
“You are waiting for my offer. Alright, I will give you a name and a number. What will you give me?”
“When the time is right, a painless death, if you wish it.”
Juilden raised a brow. “And in the meantime?”
“Return to Antiva with me, brother, I think we both have some ghosts to lay to rest.”
For the first time surprise flitted across Juilden’s unremarkable face and it animated his features a moment, making him almost appear to have thought and a conscience of sorts. He nodded and gave his answers. “Anora Theirin. Five.”
A name and a number. Zevran believed he hid well the shock he felt at both answers. A job of this magnitude would require vast resources indeed. He quickly deduced, but did not share, that Anora was not the true patron behind this contract. An exiled former queen could not afford five Brethren assassins. Who could? A question for another time, another person.
“Get some sleep, brother. We leave for Antiva as soon as I can secure suitable accommodations.”
Zevran went to find Aedan. He found the commander in one of the smaller sitting rooms toward the front of the fort and he observed him quietly from the doorway. Aedan sat on a couch with his head lolled back, his eyes closed, his throat exposed. Zevran would never allow himself to sleep like that and he once again marveled at the complete trust Aedan placed in him. He knew the trust was not misplaced, however. They were friends. Good friends. Zevran shook his head in wonderment, as he often did when contemplating how he had made his first true friend.
He walked over and stood in front of Aedan and waited there, wondering how long it would take the warrior to feel his presence. This was a game they had played when he’d tried to teach his friend how to fight with something other than blades. Aedan opened his eyes almost immediately. He looked tired, very tired. “Did he talk?”
Zevran nodded, his expression grim. “We have a problem, Aedan.”
Aedan gave a harsh chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Zevran acknowledged the humor with a snicker and sat down opposite Aedan, barely resting on the edge of the chair he’d chosen. “Are you in the mood for a game, my friend? Tell me, who would have the most to gain from Alistair’s death?”
Aedan drew his brows together in thought for a moment before his face cleared and he looked Zevran directly in the eye, his voice no more than a whisper. “Anora?”
Zevran smiled. “And yet, you and Alistair continue to insist you are brainless warriors. Yes. Somehow your exiled queen has gathered the resources required to contract five Brethren to carry out this whim of hers.”
“Five!” No whisper this time.
Zevran nodded. “Now we play ‘What is next’.”
“I’ll tell you what’s next, Zevran, you stay so close to Alistair that you invite gossip.”
“You attempt at humour is noted.” Zevran smiled warmly at his friend. He considered Aedan a moment, remembered that bond of trust they had forged. “Though I am fairly certain Alistair would not appreciate it. I am going to tell you something I would prefer you kept to yourself, Aedan.”
Aedan raised his brows and sense of panic momentarily swept through Zevran. Why did he suddenly feel compelled to confide in someone? His mouth opened and the words tumbled out before he gave himself the chance to think further on them. “Juilden is known to be because he is my brother. No, not of the order, such as you wardens are to one another, but by blood. We share the same mother. Do you remember why I accepted the assignment to come to Ferelden?” He did not say, ‘kill you’; one did not use such words with friends.
Aedan nodded and waited silently for him to continue.
“I suspect Juilden is here for similar reasons. It seems Ferelden is a popular destination for those that would run from themselves, no?” Zevran sighed softly, he knew Aedan would not like what he had to say next. “I know you want me to protect Alistair, and normally I would do as you bid Aedan, I am your man,” he held up a hand to forestall the usual protest and denial Aedan produced at these words, “Yes, I know you have released me from that oath. But we are friends. I want to go to Tevinter, to get to the bottom of this, for the sake of my brother and because the whole matter does not sit well with me. I suspect this more than a case of simple assassination.”
Aedan regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before he answered. “Though it would give me great comfort to know you are at my Brother’s side, I respect your wishes, Zevran. I trust you to do what you think best.”
They made their way back to the palace then and bid one another goodnight. Zevran would not see Aedan in the morning, both commanders planned an early start on the road to Orzammar. Zevran sought his own quarters, but did not sleep right away, he lay awake and thoughtful. Though clichéd the statement ‘be careful what you wish for’ had to be one of his favourites. Once again, he had proven it to be true. Was he ready to walk away from his complacency? What would he find in Antiva? Who had broken Juilden and who backed Anora? So many questions and so few answers. This adventure would likely plunge him back into the world of intrigue and politics he had left behind and he willingly admitted his apprehension to himself.
Zevran met with Leliana as soon as he could the next morning. The fair Orlesian bard counted as one of his favourite people. She was another of the very few he counted as a friend and placed some trust in. Some trust, not complete, however. He did not find her as transparent as Aedan, she had many secrets of her own. While at one time he might have considered taking his fellow rogue to bed, he had always known that they were too alike and that it would have simply been an exchange of affection, not the deeper love she shared with her husband. The bard and the warrior were perfectly suited to one another and he did not begrudge them their happiness, he only hoped, deep down and somewhat wistfully that he could allow himself to share that kind of bond with Kayley. But this he could think about another time, Leliana stood before him, her head tilted to one side as she allowed him to muse.
He looked up at her and she smiled. “Done with your thoughts, Zevran?” She held her arms out and he hugged her fondly. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming, you have done much to relieve Aedan’s mind.”
Zevran acknowledged her words with a simple nod and they walked together to Alistair’s study. The king stood before his door surrounded by guards. More guards exited the study and declared the small room free of assassins. Zevran bit his lips over a chuckle at the thought of two clunky and heavily armoured soldiers creeping about the room, checking out all the suspected hiding spots.
The guards dispersed and Leliana made her way to Alistair’s side, giving her king a tight hug. She stepped back and patted his arm in an awkward gesture. “I’m so happy to see you well, Alistair.”
Zevran stepped forward and Alistair lifted a hand to his shoulder, “It is good to see you Zev, thank you for coming.”
Zev waved hand in a dismissive gesture and said, “Of course.” He stepped away and gestured the study. “We have much to discuss.”
Alistair raised a brow. “Yes, please, come in…”
They entered the study and settled themselves down, Alistair behind the desk, Leliana and Zevran in front and Alistair turned to Leliana and asked, “Aedan and Oghren have left for Orzimmar?”
Leliana nodded and handed him a note. When the king opened it, he uttered a short laugh. He looked up and smiled at her. “For someone who writes such terse reports, he’s quite eloquent here…”
Leliana grinned and nodded. “He has his moments.”
Alistair and Leliana discussed Eamon’s funeral arrangements for a few moments before getting to the matter they were all interested in. Alistair looked up from making some notes and said, “Right, now let’s hear the news that has a former Crow looking so disturbed.”
Zevran leaned forward in his chair. “There is an organization in Tevinter called the Brethren. They are akin to the Crows only in that they practice the same art: assassination. There the similarity ends. The Brethren recruit from other societies and it is rumoured that they take only the best. Usually, we would not have even known they had been here…” Zevran paused and spread his hands, “Er, except for what they left behind, of course.”
He didn’t have to mention that what should have been left behind was Alistair’s dead body. The king shivered and gestured for Zevran to continue.
Rather than let Alistair know Juilden had obviously been an easy catch, he decided to both comfort and compliment. “The loyalty of your staff, your guards, and Oghren’s diligence in training your men…these are what you have to thank for catching even one of these assassins.”
Alistair’s brow quirked and he repeated in a hushed tone, “One?”
Zevran nodded. “There were five of them.”
Alistair looked sick and not because he still recovered from two arrows to the chest. More likely he contemplated four more possible attempts upon his life. He put his hands flat to the desk and leaned upon them for a moment, catching his breath before whispering, “Holy Maker…how did you find this out, Zev? Last I heard the assassin was not talking.”
“My methods…” Zevran waved a hand and dismissed the question, “…they are not important. What is important, however, is who contracted them, the answer to which I think adequately satisfies why.”
Leliana sat forward in her chair then and Alistair’s back straightened as he pushed back off the desk and sat up.
“Anora.”
Leliana gasped, her hand covering her mouth and Alistair rocked back so far in his chair he might have fallen. “Holy Maker!”
Zevran filled the stunned silence with his plan. “I will sail for Tevinter with the tide, Alistair. I will be taking my ‘friend’ Juilden with me. Do you want it known that I am investigating on your behalf…or not?” He asked this last delicately.
Alistair had considered a moment before responding just as Aedan had “Do as you see fit, Zevran.”
These men placed so much trust in him and his abilities. It amused and humbled him at the same time. He did not know what he might find in Antiva, but he hoped it would not lead him to betray that trust and the friendships he had come to treasure.
Zevran stared at the man in the cell, his brother. He had not seen his brother in ten years, not since Juilden had been recruited away from the Crows. Zevran remembered the flare of jealousy he’d felt toward his older sibling. The Brethren were not a secret organization, they were well known north of Ferelden and the oldest order of assassins in Thedas, founded in Tevinter. The Brethren only recruited the best.
They had not been terribly close as children. Though the brothers had been purchased together, the Crows had not encouraged such relationships. The Crows had not encouraged any relationships beyond the casual dalliance. They had been taught to harden their hearts. But they had always known they were brothers and there had always been an unspoken respect and agreement between them, a deeper level to the friendship they had enjoyed as young men. Though they had the same mother, Juilden’s father obviously had not been elven. They shared only the same eyes and a slight build eminently suited to a life in the shadows. It was natural that they had also shared the same profession. But Juilden’s lack of distinguishing features, his ability to blend with the crowd had set him apart. What better place to hide than in plain sight?
Zevran opened the cell and stepped inside. He stood before his brother and decided to try the first technique of interrogation he had ever learned, silence. A silence could be an awful void a guilty party could be enticed to fill, even with protestations of innocence. Once they started to talk, they found it hard to stop, and questions could be asked and answers sought.
He didn’t expect Juilden to respond to his silence, not really, but it gave him the time he need to further collect his thoughts. One in particular niggled: coincidence. Zevran did not believe in coincidence.
Juilden cleared his throat. “How long has it been, Zevran?” His voice rasped hoarsely and Zevran stepped outside the cell once more to fetch some water. Words came much more easily from a moistened throat.
His brother accepted the water without a word, simply as if it were his due, and drank it down placidly.
“Ten years, Juilden.” Zevran said when the cup had been put aside.
Juilden nodded as if considering this fact. Despite the looseness of his limbs, his body appeared otherwise sound, but Zevran sensed the man’s spirit was broken. This struck him oddly as he knew it couldn’t have been from the torture, Juilden had been this way beforehand and for a while.
Zevran entertained mixed feelings about this assumption. It felt familiar. It reminded him somewhat of the state he’d been in when he’d tried, and failed, to kill Aedan and Alistair. Juilden’s mind had not been on this job, or perhaps more accurately, his heart.
“Why did you allow yourself to get caught, Juilden?”
Juilden did not deny the implication of Zevran’s question; he merely looked at him with those dull brown eyes and shrugged. “We all get caught sooner or later, do we not? It seems you have risen far, Zevran, you are in the service of the King of Ferelden! Last we heard you had taken an impossible contract and failed. Tell me, how is it you come to serve your mark? Are you a rich man now? You always did have a taste for the finer things.”
Zevran pressed his lips together. So they had started another game, each seeking answers of the other and each deflecting with more questions. “I think you forget who is lying broken in the king’s dungeon and who is waiting for answers.”
“What answers to you seek, Zevran? You know who I am, what I am and why I am here.”
True, he did know these things, but he knew as well as Juilden that these were not the answers he sought. “Alright, let us talk of what we know then. There are at least two of you, however I suspect more.”
Juilden laughed - a dry, crackling sound. “You are ever the clever one, are you not?”
“We also know that whoever hired you has access to considerable resources, the Brethren are not inexpensive.” Zevran continued stating facts in a calm, measured tone. “What is not known is your target, perhaps. Though by all appearances you made a good attempt to kill Alistair, you did not succeed.”
A shadow passed over Juilden’s eyes and Zevran gained a small sense of satisfaction.
Juilden spoke then, his tone no longer mocking. “Alright Zevran, we can play this game all night, we both know how it goes. But as you can see,” he gestured weakly with his hand at his body, “I am not going to be of much use to the Brethren in the future. My career has ended.”
Zevran allowed a small smile. “So we come to the bargain portion of the evening, yes? Alright, why don’t you make me an offer and I will counter it.” He resisted the urge to rub his hands together.
“I know why you took that job, this job, Zevran. I know why you left Antiva and never came back. Perhaps I am here on a similar venture.”
This did and did not surprise Zevran. He’d recognised a kindred spirit, something besides their bond of blood. He nodded and gestured for Juilden to continue.
“You are waiting for my offer. Alright, I will give you a name and a number. What will you give me?”
“When the time is right, a painless death, if you wish it.”
Juilden raised a brow. “And in the meantime?”
“Return to Antiva with me, brother, I think we both have some ghosts to lay to rest.”
For the first time surprise flitted across Juilden’s unremarkable face and it animated his features a moment, making him almost appear to have thought and a conscience of sorts. He nodded and gave his answers. “Anora Theirin. Five.”
A name and a number. Zevran believed he hid well the shock he felt at both answers. A job of this magnitude would require vast resources indeed. He quickly deduced, but did not share, that Anora was not the true patron behind this contract. An exiled former queen could not afford five Brethren assassins. Who could? A question for another time, another person.
“Get some sleep, brother. We leave for Antiva as soon as I can secure suitable accommodations.”
Zevran went to find Aedan. He found the commander in one of the smaller sitting rooms toward the front of the fort and he observed him quietly from the doorway. Aedan sat on a couch with his head lolled back, his eyes closed, his throat exposed. Zevran would never allow himself to sleep like that and he once again marveled at the complete trust Aedan placed in him. He knew the trust was not misplaced, however. They were friends. Good friends. Zevran shook his head in wonderment, as he often did when contemplating how he had made his first true friend.
He walked over and stood in front of Aedan and waited there, wondering how long it would take the warrior to feel his presence. This was a game they had played when he’d tried to teach his friend how to fight with something other than blades. Aedan opened his eyes almost immediately. He looked tired, very tired. “Did he talk?”
Zevran nodded, his expression grim. “We have a problem, Aedan.”
Aedan gave a harsh chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Zevran acknowledged the humor with a snicker and sat down opposite Aedan, barely resting on the edge of the chair he’d chosen. “Are you in the mood for a game, my friend? Tell me, who would have the most to gain from Alistair’s death?”
Aedan drew his brows together in thought for a moment before his face cleared and he looked Zevran directly in the eye, his voice no more than a whisper. “Anora?”
Zevran smiled. “And yet, you and Alistair continue to insist you are brainless warriors. Yes. Somehow your exiled queen has gathered the resources required to contract five Brethren to carry out this whim of hers.”
“Five!” No whisper this time.
Zevran nodded. “Now we play ‘What is next’.”
“I’ll tell you what’s next, Zevran, you stay so close to Alistair that you invite gossip.”
“You attempt at humour is noted.” Zevran smiled warmly at his friend. He considered Aedan a moment, remembered that bond of trust they had forged. “Though I am fairly certain Alistair would not appreciate it. I am going to tell you something I would prefer you kept to yourself, Aedan.”
Aedan raised his brows and sense of panic momentarily swept through Zevran. Why did he suddenly feel compelled to confide in someone? His mouth opened and the words tumbled out before he gave himself the chance to think further on them. “Juilden is known to be because he is my brother. No, not of the order, such as you wardens are to one another, but by blood. We share the same mother. Do you remember why I accepted the assignment to come to Ferelden?” He did not say, ‘kill you’; one did not use such words with friends.
Aedan nodded and waited silently for him to continue.
“I suspect Juilden is here for similar reasons. It seems Ferelden is a popular destination for those that would run from themselves, no?” Zevran sighed softly, he knew Aedan would not like what he had to say next. “I know you want me to protect Alistair, and normally I would do as you bid Aedan, I am your man,” he held up a hand to forestall the usual protest and denial Aedan produced at these words, “Yes, I know you have released me from that oath. But we are friends. I want to go to Tevinter, to get to the bottom of this, for the sake of my brother and because the whole matter does not sit well with me. I suspect this more than a case of simple assassination.”
Aedan regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before he answered. “Though it would give me great comfort to know you are at my Brother’s side, I respect your wishes, Zevran. I trust you to do what you think best.”
They made their way back to the palace then and bid one another goodnight. Zevran would not see Aedan in the morning, both commanders planned an early start on the road to Orzammar. Zevran sought his own quarters, but did not sleep right away, he lay awake and thoughtful. Though clichéd the statement ‘be careful what you wish for’ had to be one of his favourites. Once again, he had proven it to be true. Was he ready to walk away from his complacency? What would he find in Antiva? Who had broken Juilden and who backed Anora? So many questions and so few answers. This adventure would likely plunge him back into the world of intrigue and politics he had left behind and he willingly admitted his apprehension to himself.
Zevran met with Leliana as soon as he could the next morning. The fair Orlesian bard counted as one of his favourite people. She was another of the very few he counted as a friend and placed some trust in. Some trust, not complete, however. He did not find her as transparent as Aedan, she had many secrets of her own. While at one time he might have considered taking his fellow rogue to bed, he had always known that they were too alike and that it would have simply been an exchange of affection, not the deeper love she shared with her husband. The bard and the warrior were perfectly suited to one another and he did not begrudge them their happiness, he only hoped, deep down and somewhat wistfully that he could allow himself to share that kind of bond with Kayley. But this he could think about another time, Leliana stood before him, her head tilted to one side as she allowed him to muse.
He looked up at her and she smiled. “Done with your thoughts, Zevran?” She held her arms out and he hugged her fondly. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming, you have done much to relieve Aedan’s mind.”
Zevran acknowledged her words with a simple nod and they walked together to Alistair’s study. The king stood before his door surrounded by guards. More guards exited the study and declared the small room free of assassins. Zevran bit his lips over a chuckle at the thought of two clunky and heavily armoured soldiers creeping about the room, checking out all the suspected hiding spots.
The guards dispersed and Leliana made her way to Alistair’s side, giving her king a tight hug. She stepped back and patted his arm in an awkward gesture. “I’m so happy to see you well, Alistair.”
Zevran stepped forward and Alistair lifted a hand to his shoulder, “It is good to see you Zev, thank you for coming.”
Zev waved hand in a dismissive gesture and said, “Of course.” He stepped away and gestured the study. “We have much to discuss.”
Alistair raised a brow. “Yes, please, come in…”
They entered the study and settled themselves down, Alistair behind the desk, Leliana and Zevran in front and Alistair turned to Leliana and asked, “Aedan and Oghren have left for Orzimmar?”
Leliana nodded and handed him a note. When the king opened it, he uttered a short laugh. He looked up and smiled at her. “For someone who writes such terse reports, he’s quite eloquent here…”
Leliana grinned and nodded. “He has his moments.”
Alistair and Leliana discussed Eamon’s funeral arrangements for a few moments before getting to the matter they were all interested in. Alistair looked up from making some notes and said, “Right, now let’s hear the news that has a former Crow looking so disturbed.”
Zevran leaned forward in his chair. “There is an organization in Tevinter called the Brethren. They are akin to the Crows only in that they practice the same art: assassination. There the similarity ends. The Brethren recruit from other societies and it is rumoured that they take only the best. Usually, we would not have even known they had been here…” Zevran paused and spread his hands, “Er, except for what they left behind, of course.”
He didn’t have to mention that what should have been left behind was Alistair’s dead body. The king shivered and gestured for Zevran to continue.
Rather than let Alistair know Juilden had obviously been an easy catch, he decided to both comfort and compliment. “The loyalty of your staff, your guards, and Oghren’s diligence in training your men…these are what you have to thank for catching even one of these assassins.”
Alistair’s brow quirked and he repeated in a hushed tone, “One?”
Zevran nodded. “There were five of them.”
Alistair looked sick and not because he still recovered from two arrows to the chest. More likely he contemplated four more possible attempts upon his life. He put his hands flat to the desk and leaned upon them for a moment, catching his breath before whispering, “Holy Maker…how did you find this out, Zev? Last I heard the assassin was not talking.”
“My methods…” Zevran waved a hand and dismissed the question, “…they are not important. What is important, however, is who contracted them, the answer to which I think adequately satisfies why.”
Leliana sat forward in her chair then and Alistair’s back straightened as he pushed back off the desk and sat up.
“Anora.”
Leliana gasped, her hand covering her mouth and Alistair rocked back so far in his chair he might have fallen. “Holy Maker!”
Zevran filled the stunned silence with his plan. “I will sail for Tevinter with the tide, Alistair. I will be taking my ‘friend’ Juilden with me. Do you want it known that I am investigating on your behalf…or not?” He asked this last delicately.
Alistair had considered a moment before responding just as Aedan had “Do as you see fit, Zevran.”
These men placed so much trust in him and his abilities. It amused and humbled him at the same time. He did not know what he might find in Antiva, but he hoped it would not lead him to betray that trust and the friendships he had come to treasure.
#588
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 05:26
Sandtigress
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I like seeing this from Zevran's perspective. Eager for more!
#589
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 06:13
Kallian13
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I love your writing and I love it even more that its from Zev's pov ^-^
#590
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 07:18
MireliA
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Makes a change seeing Zevran's point of view and I like the way you've brought his brother into it as well.
#591
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 07:25
bloodtallow
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I agree - very nice diversion to see Zev's side of things! It's also so cool to revisit dialogue we've seen in your previous story and now have the flip-side perspective on!
#592
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 07:26
Sisimka
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Thanks for the comments. I have to say, I'm really enjoying this (though I'm suffering Aedan withdrawal!). Zevran is going to end up being my own interpretation of Zev, I can already see it happening, I hope I don't offend his fans with this story. This is the last bit that follows along with 'Gifts'. Tomorrow he and Juilden will set sail for Antiva and this story will head in it's own direction! (Until the HEAD IN A BOX, that is.)
Modifié par Sisimka, 06 avril 2010 - 07:27 .
#593
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 07:31
Sisimka
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bloodtallow wrote...
It's also so cool to revisit dialogue we've seen in your previous story and now have the flip-side perspective on!
Funny you should say this as I've done a little cuttin' and pastin' and thought, wow, that was so wrong, why did I write it that way, which is how some of it has been reintepreted. LOL. I know what I'm doing here, really. TRUST ME!
#594
Posté 06 avril 2010 - 08:06
Maximus741000
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Nice story!! Suffice to say I like where this is going, it's a clever view of the story from Zev's viewpoint and how he sees the world. I look forward to when he gets to Tevinter and how you will describe it, I also look forward to the final confrontation with Anora and how it happens
#595
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 01:18
Olwaye
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Sisi your Zevran is close to my heart, I love your story.
Maybe it is the alcool speaking or maybe it is the music but your story plus DOWN music just make the most compelling reading ever, something in your words mixed with Phil lyrics and Down music just make everything comes right.
Keep the good stuff coming
Maybe it is the alcool speaking or maybe it is the music but your story plus DOWN music just make the most compelling reading ever, something in your words mixed with Phil lyrics and Down music just make everything comes right.
Keep the good stuff coming
#596
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 01:25
Sisimka
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*raises her glass to Olwaye* Cheers to you, mate! And thanks for the nice compliment!
#597
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 06:37
Apophis2412
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There can never be enough Zevran stories. Nicely done
#598
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 10:58
Sisimka
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Thanks Apohphis, glad you're liking 'Zev Week'!
#599
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 03:33
Masticetobbacco
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wait your zevran dual wields right?
I made mine an archer for great justice
I made mine an archer for great justice
#600
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 05:21
Sisimka
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I never really changed the 'beginning' specs of any of the companions, just enhanced what they already had. I used Zev almost all through the game with every PC and party because his dps is nearly unmatched (Or so I found). I have to admit, his party banter is my favourite also!
Edit: So, yes, this means my Zev is dual wield.
Edit: So, yes, this means my Zev is dual wield.
Modifié par Sisimka, 07 avril 2010 - 05:22 .
