This is the sequel to my story "An Assassin's Childhood." The childhood story of Zevran is over. The "Antivan Episodes" will tell about his time as a young assassin. Some will only describe brief moments - images of memory, which briefly flare. Others will be a little longer. They will end on the day when Zevran starts on his journey to Ferelden ...

Explanation: My Zevran stories are based on the world of Dragon Age with its continent of Thedas. The main characters Zevran, Taliesen and Rinna as well as numerous peripheral characters (Prince Azrin, Princess Feranna, Isabela and her husband Luis, the "Wealthy Target", Salvail) are the intellectual property of Bioware. I use all available knowledge from the games, the related books and comics. Core of my story are Zevran's dialogues in Dragon Age: Origins.

Most of the other characters in the stories are my own creations. Also a few characters of friendly fanfiction writers will have shorter or longer cameos in the "Antivan Episodes" – of course with their permission.

Antivan Episodes

„I was the best Crow in Antiva, I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often… both as an assassin and lover."

(Zevran, dialogues, DA:O)

Prelude

It's the year twenty-four of the Dragon Age. Zevran has been with the Crows for a whole decade now. And though he will only be seventeen this summer, this is already his third year as a contract killer…

Memories

Memories are islands in the sea of oblivion. There are moments, situations, sad, exciting or halcyon. Sometimes a whole year is so intense that one still recalls every moment. Then there may be months and years that fade. For everyday life, there is no room in the retention.

The daily business of a Crow consisted of murder contracts. They became routine. But he reminded himself to commemorate the lives he had taken by collecting trophies. They were in his chest, in the top drawer, leftmost in a box. The buckle on the mage's shoe, the collar button of a merchant from Seleny, the hairpin of a noble lady who had betrayed her husband. By whom was this belt buckle? Oh, that was that prince's son, who was in the way of his brother.

Also the knife from Sûl's hands was placed there. For he considered him as his victim, killed by his words and his departure. The Dalish had sent him his body, a silent accusation. This knife ... Zevran was sure that it had been his own knife while he had lived with the clan. Back then he had changed the handle, made it bulbous and carved grooves into it, so it lay more comfortable in his hand. That Sûl had used this knife to kill himself, could only mean one thing: He wanted to show the other elf, who was the real killer.

Zevran confessed to his guilt. He was an assassin. Who came too close to him, paid with his life. The elf closed the drawer and went on his way. It was time for his next job.

Flames

When he was returning from his mission he saw a strange flickering in the dark. He followed it and heard the clink of striking metal. Figures in a silent, fast dance, a sword fight.

An elf in a black, sleek leather armor with an unusual metal belt and long, silver blond hair - it was Master Antonio. He moved quickly and gracefully, turned and swung his arms. It was the first time Zevran saw someone fighting with two swords, equally skilful and strong conducted by both hands. Around the curved blades red flames were blazing.

The Master was fighting against two opponents. When he gave the man in front of him the death blow, the second threatened to stab him in the back. Lightning fast Zevran was on the spot and rammed the attacker his dagger between the ribs. At the same moment Antonio turned around. With the swing of his blades he cut off the head of the already dead man. The corpse collapsed, the head rolled down the lane.

Masters and young assassin stood facing each other. Zevran saw fire in Antonio's otherwise expressionless eyes - burning passion. His heart pounded with excitement and admiration. He opened his mouth to an inquiring whisper: "Flame swords?" It was the first time that he saw the Master's face smiling: "Lyrium runes," was all he said.

Then he led his right blade with a quick movement narrowly over Zevrans bare forearm. The fine blonde hairs were scorched, at his skin a red stripe was formed by the heat. Surprised, the young elf looked at his arm, ran his right hand over the burning spot. When he looked up again, the Master had disappeared.

Relaxation

Sex had become the main tool of the young Crow; as well as his deadliest weapon. He measured his success in the sensual moans of his victims. And he also enjoyed the ability to manipulate his companions. He had tried them all, his entire group and a few others from the Arainai cell. All but one...

Taliesen slumped in his chair and groaned. It had been a long day - they had to follow a trace through half the city and then had to wait hours in an alley to track down their prey. Finally they were successful: The target was dead, his three companions as well. A nasty cut on Taliesen forearm had since been bandaged, but he had lost a lot of blood and looked pale. Zevran stood behind him and began to massage his shoulders and neck. "Come, relax a little. At best, you lie down on your bed," he smiled.

Taliesen muttered and moaned softly, "I know exactly what you're up to, Zev. But forget it, I don't fancy men."

The Elf chuckled. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, I only want you to relax. I can massage well, believe me."

"All right, then ..." The teamleader gave in. He wearily sat down on his bed. Zevran helped him to undress, instructed him to lie down and began to massage him thoroughly and extensively. Back, neck, head, arms, legs - his warm, well-trained hands were everywhere. His pressure was neither too soft nor too hard. He carefully avoided the injury.

Whether Taliesen liked it or not, the touch attracted him. His whole body relaxed, only a certain part was doing the opposite. Of course, the elf noticed this and increased his efforts. Again and again his fingers slid casually over hips and thighs of the human to the source of his arousal. He played with him and enjoyed every reaction of this hot, pulsating muscle. There was no doubt, not the slightest, that he would drive this man to ecstasy...

Zevran grinned mischievously, "See, I knew this would happen."

"Do not be vain of it," the young man said wearily. "I admit that was the best massage I've ever got. I enjoyed it very much, but I still do not fancy you. Not in this way."

"Oh? A part of you seemed to be of a different opinion," smirked the elf, "But I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give." His fingers once again brushed gently over the uninjured arm of the man before the elf got up from the bed of his capo and walked slowly towards the door.

Taliesen shook his head and grinning closed his eyes while rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You are incorrigible, Zevran."

"I get that a lot," winked the elf. Taliesen had fallen asleep. Zevran left his room with a smile. He ran his fingers through his hair and knocked on Ginera's door.

I hope you enjoyed the short prelude. I will post the first chapter in the coming days. As always I would be happy about reviews, favorites and follows. :)