Chapter 4! This one was tricksy for me. I knew how I wanted to start it and I had a good idea how it was going to end, but then I had to fill in all the middle bits. The horror!

Disclaimer: As always, Bioware owns everything good, including Dragon age and Zevran and all that stuff.

Zevran

It had been a day since Morrigan had informed everyone that Lyna would recover, but the Warden had still not woken up. The Dalish camp was busy, elves constantly running around getting supplies together, making weapons, training. Preparing for war. Zevran, feeling tense enough without the added stress of war preparations, decided to find a place to think, well away from camp. He needed time to consider... things. One thing the assassin did not want, however, was to stir the camp and have people go looking for him when he went missing, so he made sure to tell Leliana he was going. He then asked around to see if any of the Dalish knew of an appropriate location for... soul searching. He didn't use those words, obviously, but they seemed to get his meaning. One of the hunters suggested a clearing about a half-hour walk away from the camp. He said it was perfect for clearing thoughts.

So it was that the Antivan found himself stalking through the woods at midday, his sword and dagger strapped to his back, and a small pouch of food - lunch, and maybe dinner - on his belt. He stepped into the clearing and blinked in surprise. Well now...

The clearing was about twenty feet across, the ground covered in soft grass spotted with little patches of wildflowers. Sunlight filtered down through the large gaps in the canopy, giving the air a golden glow; but what captured his attention was the pool of crystal clear water that took up half the clearing, a large waterfall cascading down a rocky slate-grey cliff. The waterfall was only about thirty feet high - quite a bit shorter then the trees - but it was magnificent. The water misted, making rainbows and occasionally sending out a spray of water that sparkled in the air like jewels; Zevran felt a stab of sadness that Lyna was not here. She would love this place.

The assassin shook his head, trying not to think of Lyna and her... condition. He shrugged out of his weapon harness and dropped his equipment next to the pool; he lay down on the soft grass, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, and put both hands behind his head as he gazed up at the trees. Their leaves fluttered gently in the faint breeze, lit from behind by the midday sun. Yes, Lyna would love it here. Maybe once she woke up... Zevran bit off the thought. He did not come all the way out here to dwell on the wounded archer. And yet, he could not seem to keep his thoughts from straying towards her. He remembered the almost painful relief he had felt when Morrigan had told them she would be fine.

Zevran closed his eyes with a sigh, finally accepting that he would not be able to banish the Warden from his thoughts. He found everything about her captivating, from her skill in battle, her movements graceful, to the delightful way she blushed when he flirted rather shamelessly with her. The Antivan let his thoughts linger on the softness of her skin, the dark blue-violet of her eyes on that marvelous night a week or so ago when he'd stolen that first kiss. And third kiss. And fourth, actually. He smirked to himself, thinking about how she had melted against him. He let his mind drift, imaging what she would feel like with those long legs wrapped around him, moving beneath him, her rosy lips gasping out his name... Ah, pleasant daydreams...

Lyna

Lyna woke slowly, feeling disoriented and stiff. Her chest was tight as if someone had placed a large weight there, and she could not remember where she was or how she had gotten there. She lay silently for a few moments, her eyes closed, when suddenly she heard the faint sound of people speaking in elvish. Her eyes snapped open.

Inside an aravel? The clan. Witherfang!... Oh gods, Zevran!?

Lyna struggled to sit, needing to see if he was alright or if she'd already lost him to the curse. She felt the bandages wrapped tightly around her chest, the bindings on her right arm. She couldn't remember much of the last few minutes in the forest ruins; she recalled getting kicked by the sylvan, the searing pain of broken ribs and the clatter as she dropped her bow. The Warden remembered dragging herself to her feet, how everyone was looking at the damned Keeper Zathrian and the Lady of the Forest. She remembered the weight of Zevran's dagger in her hand, sending shooting pains up her arm. Was it broken too? She recalled the hurt in Zathrian's eyes as she hissed into his ear... But did he do as she demanded? Did he break the curse or had she failed to save the hunters... failed to save her friend. Again. Damnit, she could not remember.

The Dalish Warden groaned quietly, pain lancing through her chest as she tried to get up. She felt movement nearby and a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to stay in bed. She looked up. Alistair. He looked tired, both worried and relieved at the same time. She relaxed slightly, feeling her ribs creak as she settled back down.

Clearing her throat, which felt exceptionally dry - how long had she been out? - the Warden looked to her brother and asked, "What happened?"

He smiled faintly and sat back down, rubbing absently at the back of his neck. "You had us all worried, you know." He paused, looking less concerned now that she was speaking. He handed her a cup of water and joked, "Good thing you're going to be ok or I'd have to lead us to victory all by myself! You know that bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I'm stranded somewhere... without any pants!"

Lyna chuckled, the water soothing on her throat. Her violet eyes were fixed on Alistair, and he seemed to sense that she wanted more details.

"Well, from what Sten told us, you fought your way to some sort of forest spirit lady, and then you forced Zathrian - at knife point, apparently - to undo the werewolf thing. And then you collapsed and they brought you back here. You broke a couple ribs, your arm, and you had some pretty nasty cuts all over. Probably from evil banshees or ghost dogs or something." He must have seen her jaw clench and he hurried to elaborate, "Yes, the curse is lifted. Everyone who was infected has recovered. Faster the you did, I might add."

She dropped her eyes to her lap, trusting Alistair but feeling the need to ask a more specific question. Her voice dropped down to a whisper when she finally spoke, "And... is Zevran alright? He was bitten on the way in and..." She could feel her fellow Warden staring at her but did not look up.

Alistair

Alistair stared at the slender elf swathed in bandages. Normally, being in such close proximity with a pretty female dressed in so very little would have made him very uncomfortable, bringing a horrible blush to his cheeks, but Lyna was like a sister. A crazy sister with pointy ears and tattoos across half her face. Did those hurt? They must have hurt... oh right. She was talking. Did she just ask about the assassin?!

He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, the assassin is fine. I didn't even know he got bit. I suppose one of the healers must have seen to the wound... He hasn't sprouted fur and giant teeth or anything, if that's what you're asking." He paused, noting the way she seemed to relax at his words. Alistair frowned.

"What do you see in him, anyway? He was sent here to kill us, you know. You don't really trust him, do you?"

Lyna's head flew up and she met his gaze, responding without hesitation. "Yes." They both blinked. Well at least she looked just as surprised as he felt... He shook his head and shrugged. "Well fine. If you trust him then I suppose I can give him a chance." Alistair grinned when she beamed at him, violet eyes sparkling, looking pleased with his statement.

"Well, I should let you rest. I promised Leliana I'd tell her as soon as you woke." Alistair stood with a grin and went to leave, but tripped over something and fell gracelessly out of the aravel. He shook his head as he got up, embarrassed and blushing, but glad to hear the melodic, ringing laughter in the aravel behind him.

Lyna

Lyna absolutely refused to stay in the aravel. It was a little after midday; the healers had been in to see her shortly after Alistair had left - the Warden giggled again when she pictured his feet going up over his head as he fell out of the landship - and she felt perfectly fit, if a little stiff. They had recommended that she stay in bed for at least another day, but she was adamant, and they had relented. After all, if not for her and her companions, they would have lost half the clan to werewolves by now.

The Warden immediately sought out her friends, checking on each of them to make sure they were well. Talin was the first to greet her, since he was sitting right outside the aravel. He jumped up and tried to lick her entire face, which she tried to avoid with flailing arms and merry laughter. Alistair had run over, immediately scolding her for being out of bed and grabbing the huge mabari, scolding him as well for jumping all over the slender Warden. Sten was terse as always, but seemed pleased with her recovery. Shale commented that she was glad 'It' was feeling better, saying she would have shed a single tear if 'It' had ended up as a messy stain on the rocks. Morrigan surprised her by actually hugging her when the elf had come upon the woman. She looked embarrassed afterwards, so Lyna hadn't said anything about it. Leliana, of course, also hugged her, looking positively bubbly when Lyna finally tracked her down.

And then she had gone searching for Zevran. The Warden hadn't meant to track him down last. In fact, she wanted to find him first, wanted to confirm that he was ok after their ordeal in the forest, but she couldn't find him anywhere. So she went back to Leliana, who was the one companion least likely to make some snarky remark about the assassin when she asked after him.

"Oh, yes! In fact, he made a point to tell me he was going to be in the forest for a while today. None of us expected you to wake up, you see, and I think he wanted to be alone for awhile. I was actually rather surprised he told me at all, but I think he just didn't want anyone to panic when we found he was missing. You know, because he is an assassin." Leliana stared at Lyna, who was grinning at her and trying not to laugh. "Oh, there I go, rambling on again. I think he asked some of the hunters if there was anywhere close where he could go without finding trouble."

Lyna giggled at the bard, amused by her enthusiasm, and said, "Thank you Leliana. I'll ask around." She turned and had taken a few steps when Leliana put her hand on the elf's arm. The Warden glanced at her with a curious expression, noting the faint smile on the humans face.

"He was very concerned, you know. He tried to hide it, but I could see. He will be glad to see you, I think."

Zevran

...two hours later

Zevran suppressed a flinch, realizing he must have dozed off. He was still laying on the soft grass next to the sparkling pond, his eyes closed and his hands under his head. He silently cursed himself for his unacceptable lapse and wondered what had woken him. He heard nothing beyond the sound of the waterfall and the cheery sound of birdsong in the forest; something had pulled him from his sleep though, so he listened carefully for any clues, not moving to give away his awareness.

A full minute passed, and he heard nothing amiss, so the assassin began to relax... until he heard a faint laugh just behind him. Or was it a giggle? It didn't matter, someone was clearly there. Zevran was about to leap to his feet and face the threat when he heard an unexpected voice, lilting and melodic... and amused. He froze.

"You know, I thought assassins were supposed to be hard to sneak up on..." The assassin's eyes stayed firmly closed as he tried to calm himself. Lyna was ok. She was awake and well enough to go traipsing through the woods, at least. Why was she here? Surely she wasn't just looking for him... he felt a flash of unexpected guilt. What if she was just looking for him? What if she'd injured herself further because he was out in the woods for no good reason? He sighed and opened his eyes, leaning up slightly to get a look at her.

Unsurprisingly, she had managed to silently make her way around to his side without his notice. She was kneeling a few feet away, her delicate hands resting on her knees. He looked her over, trying to assure himself that she was fine; he was so focused on his goal that he didn't even notice her doing the same thing. Her hair was loose, the ebony locks framing her delicate face and spilling across her shoulders, and she was wearing a long dusky-purple tunic over dark leggings. She looked paler then usual, dark circles under her violet eyes. He noticed that she had a bandage on her right arm, and he frowned.

"Ah, but you should be more careful, my dear Warden. You were rather seriously injured, you know." Zevran lifted his gaze and found her staring at him intently, her violet eyes lighter then normal. He felt a flash of surprise when she whispered, "Are... you alright?"

The Warden's eyes flickered towards his left arm before meeting his gaze again, and he realized she was trying to confirm that he wasn't going to turn into a feral beast, all teeth and hair. She came out here, clearly still weak after her injury, just to see if he was ok? If being lethalline meant she would be taking such risks, he didn't know if he wanted the title. Still frowning, Zevran nodded and sat up the rest of the way, saying, "Oh yes, quite alright. I imagine that it will take a bit more then one small bite to do me in, as it were."

And suddenly Lyna had her arms around him, her face buried against his shoulder and her slender body pressed against him. Zevran froze briefly, his eyes wide in shock, then returned the embrace, his muscled arms curling comfortably around her narrow waist. He felt her trembling as she whispered, "Oh thank Mythal... I was so worried and nobody knew where you had gone and..." She leaned back suddenly, hitting his shoulder with a dainty fist, a frown on her face. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" He blinked in confusion as she hugged him again, her arms sliding back around his neck. Zevran was having a hard time gathering his thoughts, distracted alternatively by her words and behaviour, and then the soft sensation of her in his arms, the flowery scent of her hair. He wasn't sure what to make of her outburst, his upbringing leaving him with no experience with such a display of concern; at least, not when the person had nothing to gain by such a display.

...eight hours later

Zevran was back in the Dalish camp, reclining on his bedroll, trying to figure out what was going on between him and Lyna. It was easier to focus now that she was in her own tent instead of right there with her soft arms and wildflower scent... The assassin shook his head. He absolutely could not decipher what Lyna was hoping to get from him. He had already promised his sword, and she didn't seem inclined - at least not to the point where it was her driving goal - to use him as a... a bed-warmer, as suggested... So what was she after? It was maddening. He could not understand her. Zevran thought back to their time in the forest clearing. Once she had finally calmed down enough to stop alternating between hugging and hitting him, the two elves had settled back and stayed in the clearing for some time, talking about this and that and sharing the food he had brought. Neither seemed inclined to discuss what had passed in the forest ruins or Lyna's outburst. The Antivan closed his eyes with a faint smirk, deciding to get some sleep, as an image flickered across his eyelids...

Lyna stood under the waterfall, the crystalline water of the pool rising to just below her waist, her back turned and her face tilted up into the spray; she was running her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it back off her face, causing the bared muscles in her back to stretch and flex. Zevran sat on the bank of the pool, shamelessly staring at the slender elf. She had asked him to turn around while she bathed, but he certainly wasn't about to miss an opportunity like this. He felt his pulse quicken as the water sluiced down her pale skin, the sunlight flashing off the surface of the pool. The Antivan wanted to join her, but he knew she wouldn't allow it. Not yet anyway. For now, he'd have to settle for entrancing visuals and a few stolen kisses.

The Warden twisted slightly and glanced at him over her shoulder, a blush coloring her cheeks when she saw him watching, and flashed him an amused smile. "You are a very bad man, Zevran of Antiva."

Lyna

Lyna lay in her tent, her left arm thrown delicately across her eyes as she tried to sleep. She knew they were supposed to be getting an early start the next day, since Redcliffe was a few weeks travelling from the Dalish camp, even going along the old Imperial Highway. And yet, she couldn't seem to still her mind and banish the image of a certain handsome elf from her mind.

Lyna lifted her arms and closed her eyes before turning her face into the spray of the delightfully cool waterfall; she pushed her hair back from her face and let the water run down her unclothed form, humming quietly to herself. She suspected the assassin wasn't exactly honoring her request to not watch, but the pool was far too inviting to ignore for modesty's sake. She stretched slightly, letting the cool water soothe her tired muscles, then glanced over her shoulder to where she'd left Zevran sitting on the bank of the pool. Of course he was watching her... but his eyes... The Warden blushed. The assassin's golden eyes were almost predatory as he watched her, his muscles slightly tense as he reclined on the soft grass like some sort of hunting cat. Lyna shuddered slightly under his gaze, fighting off the sudden desire to turn and invite him to join her. Instead, she flashed him a faint smile and said, "You are a very bad man, Zevran of Antiva."

Zevran had turned his head at her request when she went to exit the pool, but she couldn't seem to ignore the look in his beautiful eyes when he looked at her, even after she had re-dressed... Lyna groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the small pillow. As she finally drifted off to sleep, she wondered if perhaps she should just bed the man and get her foolish obsession out of her system...

That's it for this one. Yeah, I have no idea how long it would actually take to get to Redcliffe from inside the forest, but I need a few weeks so they have time to progress their relationship to where I need it... so that's how long it's going to take. :P

I'm probably going to do at least a little one for Redcliffe with some flashbacks of their time travelling there. If anyone was wondering, according to the time line I've got in my head for this series of stories, they pick up Zevran, go find the Dalish, go to Redcliffe and lift the siege, then go to the Mage tower (and back to Redcliffe to save Conner), then the Urn, then Orzammar. Then the Landsmeet and all that other stuff.