Two Sides of the Same Coin
Two Sides of the Same Coin
Title: Two Sides of the Same Coin
Rating: T (for now, may change to M later)
Genre: Drama/Romance/ and a touch of humor
Summary: Love hurts, literally and metaphorically. That is one lesson every Crow learns early. But there is another side to that particular sovereign. And sometimes, you learn it in the place you least expected. m/m
Ch. 20 is now up.
Zevran, Darrian and Alistair have boarded the boat to the Circle tower to get the lyrium for the ritual to free Connor from the demon. Along the way, Zevran learns a few things he didn't quite expect.
Zevran Arainai
I’d never done much sailing back in Antiva, though I enjoyed it very much. The few times I’d gone had been only to fulfill a contract. And I’d never gone alone. Too easy to slip away up or down the coast where there were a hundred places to disappear. The Crows liked to keep a tight short leash on their assassins below the rank of Master.
There is a sense of freedom on the water when cutting through the waves with the wind at your back, the horizon open and beckoning. Fortunately, I had the stomach for sailing, as did my warden. So I joined him at the bow. Except for my self and Alistair, the others remained behind in Redcliffe, in case their blades and skills were needed.
The templar lounged on the side, but watched me like a hawk. Very protective of his fellow warden, he was. Though I sensed he had no ‘other’ interest in Darrian. Like almost every other Ferelden I’d met - and admittedly that number was few- he seemed able to conceive of only one way for a man to find pleasure. And, judging by the way he blushed when the topic of sex was brought up or even hinted at, I suspected he hadn’t even experienced that yet.
As for my Warden, well…he seemed a bit more open minded, judging by the looks he gave me when he thought I wasn’t watching. I suppose I could have approached him more directly. But I had to be careful about such advances. I needed to secure my position with him, but go too far, too fast, and I could either end up dead, or cut loose to fend for myself against whatever the Crows sent after me.
I turned away from the scowling ex-templar and studied the horizon, where the dim small outline of a Circle tower could be seen. It was good to be away from the stench of the town and the walking dead.
Standing next to him, I shifted my line of sight, so I could just bring him into view at the edge of vision. He stared out over the water, his eyes focused in the distance, probably on the tower. Why did he risk so much for a shem child? One he didn’t even know. The humans wouldn’t have done the same for an elf. And quickly eliminating the threat of an abomination was certainly the most prudent course. On the surface, going to the tower seemed a foolish decision, but he wasn’t a fool. Of course, saving the life of the arl’s only son and heir would help ensure the noble’s support by creating an obligation between them. But I had the distinct feeling that was not my Warden’s primary motivation. Or that the thought had even occurred to him. So, the only reasonable conclusion was that he was motivated by compassion.
I gazed down at the water slipping past the hull. One survives the Crows by creating layers of obligation, favor for favor, or by gold, if one can accumulate enough sovereigns. My Warden didn’t have much in the way of coin, so how had the Circle tower become obligated to him? I’d known he’d fought a battle there, but nothing beyond that. Masters hoard information like gold, and in this, Master Stefan had been typical.
“I’m curious about something,” I said to Darrian, settled near the bow. He was leaning on his forearms on the railing of the ship, his feet spread for balance.
“What’s that?”
“How did the mage tower come to owe you a favor?”
He stared out over the water for a moment, the wind playing with wisps of russet hair around his forehead. “I cleared out a demon infestation in the tower. It was either that…or the Rite of Annulment.”
“Rite of Annulment?”
Alistair came over. “The permission of the Grand Cleric is needed. But it gives the Templars the right to purge a Circle entirely… if they feel it’s irredeemable.”
“There were children in the tower,” Darrian said softly, with those steel hard undertones I’d heard him use when his will was set. “As well as mages who were free from possession, and who’d managed to survive what the blood mages had unleashed.”
“They would kill…everyone?” I asked. “That seems a bit drastic.” Alistair stared at me as if I had sprouted another head. “Death should be wielded like a dagger, not a mace, my dear ex-templar. A judicious application in the right place is far more effective than wholesale slaughter. Not to mention the mess it leaves behind.”
“That seems an odd attitude for an assassin,” Alistair said, crossing his arms and frowning.
“And how many assassins have you met, hmm, that you can so judge what is the…correct attitude? Dealing death is an art. As such, it should be done with skill and subtlety.”
Maker, slaughter everyone? And he thought my profession was bloody.
The ex-templar scowled. “You… are a murderer for hire.”
I cocked my head. “Aren’t we all murderers here? What is the difference -other than that I was quite well paid for it- between what I do and what the chantry Templars would have done to the mages in the tower?”
Alistair chopped at the air with his hand. “It’s not the same. It’s…different.”
“How?” I challenged him.
He shook his head. “It just…is.”
“Maybe not so different,” Darrian said. The ex-templar and I both started. The man had a gift for surprising me.
Alistair leaned forward. “How can you say that? I’m the last one who would have wanted to see the Rite carried out, but there has to be a difference… doesn’t there?”
Darrian gazed down at his hands, his feet spread for balance. “I never told you how Duncan found me, did I?”
Alistair shook his head. I leaned forward, very curious.
“The day Duncan conscripted me was supposed to have been my wedding day.”
“You were getting married?! I’m sorry…I didn’t know.”
Married? Did my warden ‘walk both sides of the street’, as we say in Antiva?
Darrian sighed and turned around, leaning back against the bow. “The marriage was arranged by my father. A woman from another Alienage. It’s common practice.” He shrugged. “I was old enough and my father…wanted grandchildren. My cousin Soris was also supposed to get married that day.”
“So, you didn’t know her?” Alistair said. Darrian shook his head.
“The first time I saw her was just before the ceremony was supposed to start. We’d only talked a few minutes when some human males came into the Alienage. They were looking for …‘companionship.’ My cousin, Shianni, hit one over the head with a bottle and knocked him out. At the time we didn’t know he was Vaughn, the arl’s son.” He smiled, but it had a bitter edge to it.
“Is that when Duncan recruited you?” Alistair asked.
“No, it was later. After blood was shed…a great deal of blood.”
He looked Alistair in the eye when he continued. His voice vibrated with emotion, but not the mindless heat of one who had sought vengeance, though that certainly must have been his motive. He spoke as one who had made a clear and deliberate choice to end another life.
“Vaughn returned with more men and abducted several women, including both brides and Shianni. He especially wanted her. I tried to stop them and was knocked out. When I came to, they were already gone.” He stared at his boots a moment then looked up. “I asked for Duncan’s help to get them back, but he said he couldn’t intervene. That it would cause more trouble than I knew. But he gave me his sword and bow. And told me that a man had a right to defend his friends and family.”
Alistair swallowed. “That sounds like him.”
“Soris and I got into the castle through the servant’s entrance. The guards didn’t like the notion of elves carrying weapons. So we fought…and killed them. They didn’t give us any choice. By the time we reached where they had taken the women, one had already been raped and killed. Shianni…” He stopped and his hands tightened on his arms. “She was still alive, but Vaughn had already raped her, maybe even his ‘friends’ as well. She never told me exactly what happened.” He looked past Alistair at me, and then back at the ex-templar. “So I killed him…and them.”
Those last words hung in the air between us. He’d been focused on Alistair while he spoke; only looking at me for that brief moment. Yet, I had the odd feeling that the story was more for my benefit than his fellow Warden’s.
“Duncan invoked the right of conscription when the city watch came to arrest me.”
I thought the human would be angry, but he only shook his head. “It’s said that every Warden has a story.”
“Now you know mine,” Darrian said quietly. “So, in a way, I too am a murderer.”
I felt the need to say something, but I wasn’t sure what, so I kept silent. We all were, each with our own thoughts. After a time, Alistair settled on the deck, leaned back and closed his eyes, and was soon snoring softly.
I came back up to the bow and turned so I could study my warden without seeming to. Interesting, to know that he was capable of killing like that, cool and deliberate, and without regret. Yet, he also sought to avoid killing when expediency would deem it the wisest course.
A most intriguing man, this warden.
Previous chapters can be found here: Fanfic.net Two Sides
Comments/feedback help grow a better writer. Thanks for reading.
Title: Two Sides of the Same Coin
Rating: T (for now, may change to M later)
Genre: Drama/Romance/ and a touch of humor
Summary: Love hurts, literally and metaphorically. That is one lesson every Crow learns early. But there is another side to that particular sovereign. And sometimes, you learn it in the place you least expected. m/m
Ch. 20 is now up.
Zevran, Darrian and Alistair have boarded the boat to the Circle tower to get the lyrium for the ritual to free Connor from the demon. Along the way, Zevran learns a few things he didn't quite expect.
Zevran Arainai
I’d never done much sailing back in Antiva, though I enjoyed it very much. The few times I’d gone had been only to fulfill a contract. And I’d never gone alone. Too easy to slip away up or down the coast where there were a hundred places to disappear. The Crows liked to keep a tight short leash on their assassins below the rank of Master.
There is a sense of freedom on the water when cutting through the waves with the wind at your back, the horizon open and beckoning. Fortunately, I had the stomach for sailing, as did my warden. So I joined him at the bow. Except for my self and Alistair, the others remained behind in Redcliffe, in case their blades and skills were needed.
The templar lounged on the side, but watched me like a hawk. Very protective of his fellow warden, he was. Though I sensed he had no ‘other’ interest in Darrian. Like almost every other Ferelden I’d met - and admittedly that number was few- he seemed able to conceive of only one way for a man to find pleasure. And, judging by the way he blushed when the topic of sex was brought up or even hinted at, I suspected he hadn’t even experienced that yet.
As for my Warden, well…he seemed a bit more open minded, judging by the looks he gave me when he thought I wasn’t watching. I suppose I could have approached him more directly. But I had to be careful about such advances. I needed to secure my position with him, but go too far, too fast, and I could either end up dead, or cut loose to fend for myself against whatever the Crows sent after me.
I turned away from the scowling ex-templar and studied the horizon, where the dim small outline of a Circle tower could be seen. It was good to be away from the stench of the town and the walking dead.
Standing next to him, I shifted my line of sight, so I could just bring him into view at the edge of vision. He stared out over the water, his eyes focused in the distance, probably on the tower. Why did he risk so much for a shem child? One he didn’t even know. The humans wouldn’t have done the same for an elf. And quickly eliminating the threat of an abomination was certainly the most prudent course. On the surface, going to the tower seemed a foolish decision, but he wasn’t a fool. Of course, saving the life of the arl’s only son and heir would help ensure the noble’s support by creating an obligation between them. But I had the distinct feeling that was not my Warden’s primary motivation. Or that the thought had even occurred to him. So, the only reasonable conclusion was that he was motivated by compassion.
I gazed down at the water slipping past the hull. One survives the Crows by creating layers of obligation, favor for favor, or by gold, if one can accumulate enough sovereigns. My Warden didn’t have much in the way of coin, so how had the Circle tower become obligated to him? I’d known he’d fought a battle there, but nothing beyond that. Masters hoard information like gold, and in this, Master Stefan had been typical.
“I’m curious about something,” I said to Darrian, settled near the bow. He was leaning on his forearms on the railing of the ship, his feet spread for balance.
“What’s that?”
“How did the mage tower come to owe you a favor?”
He stared out over the water for a moment, the wind playing with wisps of russet hair around his forehead. “I cleared out a demon infestation in the tower. It was either that…or the Rite of Annulment.”
“Rite of Annulment?”
Alistair came over. “The permission of the Grand Cleric is needed. But it gives the Templars the right to purge a Circle entirely… if they feel it’s irredeemable.”
“There were children in the tower,” Darrian said softly, with those steel hard undertones I’d heard him use when his will was set. “As well as mages who were free from possession, and who’d managed to survive what the blood mages had unleashed.”
“They would kill…everyone?” I asked. “That seems a bit drastic.” Alistair stared at me as if I had sprouted another head. “Death should be wielded like a dagger, not a mace, my dear ex-templar. A judicious application in the right place is far more effective than wholesale slaughter. Not to mention the mess it leaves behind.”
“That seems an odd attitude for an assassin,” Alistair said, crossing his arms and frowning.
“And how many assassins have you met, hmm, that you can so judge what is the…correct attitude? Dealing death is an art. As such, it should be done with skill and subtlety.”
Maker, slaughter everyone? And he thought my profession was bloody.
The ex-templar scowled. “You… are a murderer for hire.”
I cocked my head. “Aren’t we all murderers here? What is the difference -other than that I was quite well paid for it- between what I do and what the chantry Templars would have done to the mages in the tower?”
Alistair chopped at the air with his hand. “It’s not the same. It’s…different.”
“How?” I challenged him.
He shook his head. “It just…is.”
“Maybe not so different,” Darrian said. The ex-templar and I both started. The man had a gift for surprising me.
Alistair leaned forward. “How can you say that? I’m the last one who would have wanted to see the Rite carried out, but there has to be a difference… doesn’t there?”
Darrian gazed down at his hands, his feet spread for balance. “I never told you how Duncan found me, did I?”
Alistair shook his head. I leaned forward, very curious.
“The day Duncan conscripted me was supposed to have been my wedding day.”
“You were getting married?! I’m sorry…I didn’t know.”
Married? Did my warden ‘walk both sides of the street’, as we say in Antiva?
Darrian sighed and turned around, leaning back against the bow. “The marriage was arranged by my father. A woman from another Alienage. It’s common practice.” He shrugged. “I was old enough and my father…wanted grandchildren. My cousin Soris was also supposed to get married that day.”
“So, you didn’t know her?” Alistair said. Darrian shook his head.
“The first time I saw her was just before the ceremony was supposed to start. We’d only talked a few minutes when some human males came into the Alienage. They were looking for …‘companionship.’ My cousin, Shianni, hit one over the head with a bottle and knocked him out. At the time we didn’t know he was Vaughn, the arl’s son.” He smiled, but it had a bitter edge to it.
“Is that when Duncan recruited you?” Alistair asked.
“No, it was later. After blood was shed…a great deal of blood.”
He looked Alistair in the eye when he continued. His voice vibrated with emotion, but not the mindless heat of one who had sought vengeance, though that certainly must have been his motive. He spoke as one who had made a clear and deliberate choice to end another life.
“Vaughn returned with more men and abducted several women, including both brides and Shianni. He especially wanted her. I tried to stop them and was knocked out. When I came to, they were already gone.” He stared at his boots a moment then looked up. “I asked for Duncan’s help to get them back, but he said he couldn’t intervene. That it would cause more trouble than I knew. But he gave me his sword and bow. And told me that a man had a right to defend his friends and family.”
Alistair swallowed. “That sounds like him.”
“Soris and I got into the castle through the servant’s entrance. The guards didn’t like the notion of elves carrying weapons. So we fought…and killed them. They didn’t give us any choice. By the time we reached where they had taken the women, one had already been raped and killed. Shianni…” He stopped and his hands tightened on his arms. “She was still alive, but Vaughn had already raped her, maybe even his ‘friends’ as well. She never told me exactly what happened.” He looked past Alistair at me, and then back at the ex-templar. “So I killed him…and them.”
Those last words hung in the air between us. He’d been focused on Alistair while he spoke; only looking at me for that brief moment. Yet, I had the odd feeling that the story was more for my benefit than his fellow Warden’s.
“Duncan invoked the right of conscription when the city watch came to arrest me.”
I thought the human would be angry, but he only shook his head. “It’s said that every Warden has a story.”
“Now you know mine,” Darrian said quietly. “So, in a way, I too am a murderer.”
I felt the need to say something, but I wasn’t sure what, so I kept silent. We all were, each with our own thoughts. After a time, Alistair settled on the deck, leaned back and closed his eyes, and was soon snoring softly.
I came back up to the bow and turned so I could study my warden without seeming to. Interesting, to know that he was capable of killing like that, cool and deliberate, and without regret. Yet, he also sought to avoid killing when expediency would deem it the wisest course.
A most intriguing man, this warden.
Previous chapters can be found here: Fanfic.net Two Sides
Comments/feedback help grow a better writer. Thanks for reading.