Hidden Agenda

/”I told you ~~~~~~~, call me Nate.” His voice rang in your mind as his fingers closed on your throat. Anger boiled in his hazel eyes, his face contorted in a scowl that reminded you exactly of Howe. Then all at once Nathaniel’s features smoothed into blankness. Releasing you, his hands clamped onto his bleeding stomach. Lowering his head, his stomach seared open. A gasp clogged your throat. When Nathaniel looked up at you, his face had transformed into a mesh of discolored skin, jagged teeth and beady eyes. He lunged for you…./
Heart pounding, your eyes flew open landing on the pulsing blue orb that surrounded Anders – he had found out the hard way, flies were attracted to the dried blood trails of his cracked face. “You okay?” he asked, as you pushed yourself into a sitting position.
“Have a bad dream lil gurl?” Taliesan added haughtily from beside the fire. You glared at the shadows that played on his face.
Zevran was sitting by Tal, a frown tugging at his perfect lips. “Was it of Nathaniel?” he asked softly. ‘And the Messenger’ you thought, nodding. It had been a while since your dreams had revisited that dark moment in your childhood. You often thought of Master Rye but not what had become of him…and your parents. “You may not want to believe it ~~~~~~~~~~,” Zevran continued. “But Taliesan saved our lives.”
“Wouldn’t have minded him showing up a tad sooner.” Jowan said who had experienced Nathaniel’s wrath in the arrow he had fired into Jowan’s shoulder.
“You’re welcome.” Was Taliesan’s response and though you suspected it was aimed at Jowan, his head was turned in your direction.
“We shouldn’t have just left him there…” you murmured, your eyes becoming lost in the embers of the fire.
“What would you suggest we have done? Return him to the Howes with an apology letter?” Taliesan mocked. Your hands balled into fists.
Anders spoke up: “He was royal. You should’ve given him a pyre. You were right beside boats and there were torches lighting the place.”
“Too bad, so sad.” Taliesan replied. Hatred overcoming you, you sprang to your feet which only amused him.
Zevran sighed loudly as he pushed himself into a standing position. “Apologize Taliesan.” He said. Tal looked at him like he was crazy. “Apologize or I wont be joining you tonight.” Zev pressed.
“Joining him?” Jowan repeated while Tal scowled.
“Fine.” Tal said, standing too. “~~~~~~~~~~ I’m sorry I killed your royal fuckboy.” Zevran gave him a look but Tal just smirked. “A deal’s a deal.” He said lowly, crouching to enter the tent. Zevran just glanced at you in remorse and followed him in.
For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the crackling fire as you sank onto the ground again. “They’re gay for each other.” Anders said finally. You glanced at him, his eyes already on you expectantly. “You know that don’t you? Why else would he hate you?”
Your eyes darted to the tent, then you looked down at your hands. “…Maybe they’re just playing.” You murmured, though you didn’t think it were true.
“Yeah with each other.” Anders scoffed.
“Anders!” Jowan protested.
“Oh you don’t think so? Go poke your head in then!”
“…I’d rather not.”
A small part of you was tempted but you were too afraid of Anders being right. You couldn’t hear anything but these men were assassins. Maybe they were trained to…pleasure silently. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you turned on your stomach so you wouldn’t have to see the tent or Anders. “Well I’m going to bed.” You heard him announce.
“Night.” You replied plainly. A sensation combed over your body, and when you turned slightly, you saw you were enclosed in the blue bubble of protection…that Jowan who stood nearby, now seemed to be controlling since Anders had chosen to lay down beside you.
You and Anders studied each other a moment. The dancing fire made the cracks in his face look fresh and painful, yet it didn’t deter from his handsome features. “Night.” He said, closing his eyes.

******
Jowan had relighted the fire twice before Taliesan stepped out of the tent. They glanced at each curiously. “You’ll make sure your friend doesn’t give Zev too much trouble right?” Tal asked, in a knowing matter.
In response Jowan glanced down at you and Anders. “Which one?” he challenged.
Tal smirked. “I was referring to Anders but if you’d see to it that nothing get too serious between the girl and Zevran, I’d certainly be grateful.” He responded, his tone sarcastically genuine.
“So Zevran does like both genders then…” Jowan half-asked.
“What do you expect from an elf raised in a whore-house.” Taliesan answered.
“……You’re leaving?”
“Wasn’t that obvious?”
“Where to?”
“Home. Antiva.”
“I thought I heard Zevran say he’s on his way to another assassination…” Jowan hinted.
“He is. It just doesn’t require my help. Officially, Howe’s assassination didn’t either, but Zev wanted back-up so naturally I came along.” Taliesan responded.
“So…this next assassination…too easy or too hard for you?” Jowan said, a sneer twisting on his lips.
Tal just stared at him, his face frozen in a fading smile. “Too messy.” Was his reply.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jowan pressed.
“It means what it means.” Tal said, starting for the edge of the camp. “And by the way…Jowan is it?….Good luck bagging the girl. She looks easy but I’ve been wrong before.”
Jowan’s hand flexed and he nearly cast a bolt of lighting after Tal, but blinking rapidly he became distracted by his sudden fury. Despite being a blood mage, Jowan wasn’t a violent person. His thoughts were still haunted by the templars he had slain in the city. His own rage at Taliesan’s insult of you surprised him. Glancing down at you again, he felt a frown cross his lips. Was he finally getting over Lily? He had never planned on such a thing happening….Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he decided Anders had slept long enough and sent a lowkey wave of snow flurrying across his face to wake him up.
Anders started to groan then remembered he had chose to lay beside you and quieted himself. Sitting and putting up the arcane shield just as Jowan turned his off, Anders gave Jowan a friendly glare. “Tried already apprentice?” he jeered.
“Afraid so Sir Mage. But surely someone who has gone through the Harrowing can go a night without full sleep.” Jowan mocked, as he tried to get comfortable on the ground.
“Funny.” Anders said dryly.
Jowan smiled though he wasn’t facing him. “Taliesan’s gone.” He informed.
“Ditched us did he? Cant say I’m broken up about it…” Anders replied. His eyes closed at the misfortunate of his own words, a cracked palm rubbing over his equally cracked neck. When he opened his eyes, he saw Jowan had turned enough so that Anders could glimpse his bemused face. “Shut it apprentice.” He said crossly.
“I didn’t say anything!” Jowan laughed.
“You didn’t have to.” Anders complained, resting his elbows on his knees. “Now hurry up and fall asleep before I decide you’re awake enough to keep me company.”
Jowan chuckled, turning fully on his side and allowed himself to drift into the Fade/dream realm. As was usual, his blood mage status called demons to him. Most were the demons that consisted of fire, their forms hunched. Here and there were the six-foot-tall demons entirely deformed. Others were the horned demonesses, their bodies bare and glorious. They lined up on either side of Jowan’s path, some willing to do his bidding, others whispering how if he let them ‘in’,(meaning out of the Fade and into him) he’d be all the more powerful. But Jowan ignored them, he refused to become an abomination and he refused to be the kind of blood mage to summon forth demons. Instead he kept walking until he saw spirits. They both fascinated and depressed him. There were so many that had been wandering aimlessly for so long that they were barely visible anymore. Once and awhile Jowan would see spirits of children and he’d try to communicate, to help them move on, but his words never got through to them and he’d eventually lose whatever child he was trying to help in the hustle-and-bustle of other spirits. Jowan sighed remembering his failed attempts. For whatever the reason, he didn’t feel like being here right now. He kept walking, his eyes darting from spirit-to-spirit as he did. Jowan was maneuvering his way to the realm of dreamers when he saw him. Stopping in his tracks, Jowan stared at Nathaniel blankly and Nathaniel stared back undauntedly.
“I was hoping to run into you.” Nate said, a lace of venom lining his echoing words.
“I’m…sorry about what happened…” Jowan replied as Nate come closer.
“I don’t want to hear it. All I want from you mage, is to make that elf pay.”
“What elf?”
“Don’t be coy. The one that killed my father.” Nathaniel said.
Jowan felt a coil of relief, for a moment he had worried Nate was talking about you. “What do you want me to do?” he asked without thinking.
“I want you to make him suffer – a slow and painful death that I was deprived of doing myself.”
“I cant do that..”
Anger burst out in waves on Nathaniel’s spirit. “Why not?!” he demanded.
“I…just cant…” Jowan stammered. “I’m no murderer. I mean…I don’t relish killing…I…” his voice turned soft as he gazed down in shame. “Didn’t enjoy killing those templars. I’m not like Anders…they were just doing their job.” Jowan glanced up at Nathaniel again. “Why not approach Anders? Why me?” he asked.
“Anders was the mutated human sitting near you? I didn’t see him and even if I had, he’s no blood mage.”
“What does my being a blood mage have to do with anything?”
Nathaniel scoffed like he was stupid. “Don’t you see? You’re the only one who can carry out of my revenge. You can inflict horrors on the elf that even I wouldn’t have been able to. You can make him pay for what he did to my father a thousand times over!”
Jowan gawked. “No! No I cant help you. I wont.” He said firmly.
Nathaniel cocked his head like he had been expecting this response. “You’re protecting an assassin? A man…no elf…that gets paid for slaughtering people? You think that’s the right thing to do?” he challenged.
“I’m not protecting him! I’m merely refusing to kill him.” Jowan replied.
“…Isnt that the same thing?” Nathaniel pressed. Jowan frowned. “I know you’re traveling with him and I know he’s on the path to killing someone else.” He continued.
“You’ve been watching us?” Jowan blurted.
“And I will continue to until justice comes to that bastard. Think about what I said.”
When Jowan blinked, Nathaniel was gone.
*********

The sun rose and with it, an awkward silence. Even Anders remained quiet after his colorful commentary about Taliesan’s absence. Abandoning the camp, tent and all, Zevran continued leading the way into the forest. The notion that Zevran had slept with Tal last night was gnawing at you. You were angry, disgusted and jealous all at once. You /needed/ to talk him about it, but you felt funny doing so in front of Anders and Jowan.
“Are you going to tell us who your next target is?” Jowan asked. “Or do you expect us to guess?”
You saw the side of Zevran’s mouth turn up in a smirk. “It would be much fun-er to guess would it not?” he replied.
“Please.” Anders scoffed. “Either you don’t know exactly who the target is yourself, or you don’t trust us to warn them.”
“Of course I don’t. You’re not assassins, what reason would you have to keep the identity of my target secret?” Zevran said.
“So I take it this’ll be a long process for you then?” Anders pressed. “Not a simple ‘run-up-and-slice-a-head-off’ hm?”
Zevran laughed vibrantly. “You’d be surprised how very unusual an assassination of what you described is.” He replied. “Or at least for me.”
“I’m sure I would.” Anders said dryly. “You prefer to get up-close-and personal do you?”
“Up-close yes. There is nothing better than making love to a target before slitting their throat.” Zev replied. You exchanged looks with Anders. “Personal,” Zev continued obliviously. “Not so much.”
“You don’t say.” Anders muttered.
“You make it a habit of laying and slaying?” Jowan asked.
“Well yes, if I’m able to. When I am about to kill someone, the least I can do is fill them with ecstasy beforehand. I’d be a monster otherwise.” Zevran answered.
Swallowing a massive lump in your throat, you finally spoke “And this includes women and men does it?”
Zevran glanced at you sharply, then lowered his gaze to the ground. “Being an Antivan Crow requires a certain amount of open-mindness. Should an assassination go horribly wrong….well…there are ways to avoid ending up dead yourself.” He explained.
“Taliesan didn’t mention anything like that when he stepped out of your tent.” Jowan said.
“And he shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. It could be considered a Crow secret.” Zevran replied, seemingly unphased that Tal had spoken to Jow before he left. “But…” he trailed off, sneaking a glance at you again.
Just when it seemed like the awkward silence would spring up again, Anders spoke: “You know a thought is occurring to me Zevran…Regardless of not knowing your target’s identity, it doesn’t change the fact that we know you’re an assassin. What’s to stop us from warning this party we’re looking for?”
“You’re welcome to try but I doubt you’ll convince them. Elves are invaluable to the Antivan Crowes for the simple truth that the words ‘elven assassin’ sound ridiculous together.” Zevran replied, turning onto a bend of the forest trail.
“Still…” Jowan began.
“Besides. Were you to tell them, it may raise some ugly questions such as – why are you traveling with me?” Zevran continued.
“To get me better!” Anders replied.
“Still.” Zevran echoed, finally glancing at them. “There is also no sure way for them to tell ~~~~~~~~~~ isn’t a Crow – if they hear of one elven assassin, they may just assume….And we wouldn’t want that would we?” Jowan and Anders both looked at you, then turned their gazes elsewhere. “So I thought. For that reason alone, I am nothing more than a traveler.” Zevran finished.

In a crevice of a hill, there sat a man sitting on a fallen tree. His hair was peppered, his black armor gleaming, the left shoulder stained in blood that had purposely been painted on there to resemble a dragon. In his hands was a large hammer, chipped from constant use, its handle nearly as long as he was. The scar on his face started above his eyebrow then branched out reaching for his nose and mouth. His eyes had been on the hammer, as he looked up at Zevran approaching, you were stunned to see that his right eye was discolored – his retina was grey, his pupil black. “Was told we were being followed.” He said in greeting, his voice deep with a glint of an overseas accent.
“We?” Anders repeated.
The next moment two women stepped out of either side of the surrounding trees, longbows at the ready. The one near Jowan and Anders had short red hair, her skin porcelain, her armor made of steel and pink leather. The one beside you was a brown-haired elf, her face flawless, the tips of her ears peeking out of the strands of her hair. Her armor was brown and green and like the redhead, she had two swords strapped to her back.
“You are quite the tracker.” Zevran told the elven one.
A smirky smile surfaced on her features. “As are you. I am Dalish but you are not. How is it then you managed to pick up our trail?” she asked.
“We were looking for you.” Zev answered, nonplused.
“Who?” The redhead pressed.
“We paid the Dark Wolf quite a bit of coin to learn the location of Wynne.” Zevran continued.
The man made a noise of a doubt. “And whaddya want with her?” he asked.
“Why to heal my friend of course.” Zevran answered gesturing at Anders.
The man’s gaze barely moved. “The man in the bubble? What’s he in that for? He contagious?”
Anders spoke for himself: “No but the flies have taken a great interest in me since the accident.”
“What accident?” The redhead asked and you realized she had an accent too elegantly thick. “What caused your skin to split?”
“Cant you put the arrows down?” Jowan asked, his hand slightly raised. “We come in peace.” His gaze traveling to the man.
“Two elves and two mages is a hell of a coincidence for a band of travelers.” He replied.
An old woman appeared from a side of the hill, her robes red, her white hair pulled back, her face lacking the proper amount of wrinkles for someone her age. “Come now. If they were up to something, they would’ve pulled it by now. Alistair, I believe you can stop hiding.” She began. Her gaze was behind you and as you glanced over your shoulder, you saw a human with sandy hair and stubble for facial hair. “The boy’s wounds are real enough. I am Wynne. Now tell me child, how did this happen to you?”
”I transformed into a swarm of bees…” Anders explained.
This seemed to stun Wynne. “You’re…a shapeshifter?” She made a noise of surprised delight. “I did not think any still existed. Where did you learn it from?”
“A witch of the Wilds.” Jowan answered.
“Truly?” Alistair spoke up from behind, revealing a chipped accent. “And she didn’t try to cook you in a pot?”
“Well she didn’t like me enough to warn me this would happen…” Anders said spreading his arms.
“Indeed, it would seem she taught improperly.” Wynne agreed. “But I should be able to heal you. Follow me, our camp is nearby.”
“Hold on,” the man interrupted. Standing, he slung the hammer over his shoulder. “They’re not going anywhere until we learn their names.”
“And they should feel so compelled when you haven’t even told them yours.” Wynne replied. He and Wynne had a stare-off, then he nodded his head at the elven woman.
A small part of you noted she had kept her bow out until now. “My name is Ariane. I travel with the Wardens in search of my clanmate Tamlen.” She introduced.
“And my name is Leliana.” The redhead said. “I’m not a Warden either. Just…a warrior.” She smiled.
The man spoke next but didn’t say his name: “Back there’s Alistair. He was sneaking up on you lot because he has templar abilites.”
“You’re a templar?” Jowan said.
“No, I was recruited into the Grey Wardens before I took my final vows.” Alistair explained. “Anyway. Up there’s our fearless leader Zaeed – The Warden Commander of Westwood Hills.”
“Damn right. Now. Your names. Let’s start with the cocky elf.” Zaeed said.
“My name is Zevran – Zev to my friends. And this here beside me is the lovely ~~~~~~~~~~~. We were a matched pairing in the Alienage – we were allowed to wed so we could go out and see the world….And as such we are legally married…In Denerium.” Zev said.
“You have a lot of pep for an Alienage elf.” Zaeed noted.
“And what is wrong with that?” Zev asked with a bright smile.
“Nothing now. I’m sure it’ll get annoying in time though.” Zaeed answered. His mismatched eyes roamed over Jowan and Anders while Zevran laughed. “Mages.” He pressed.
“I’m..Jowan..” Jow said hesitantly.
“And I’m the unfortunate Anders – perhaps you’ve heard of me dear lady.” Anders told the chuckling Wynne.
“Yes I thought you looked familiar. I believe I was present when you tried to escape the castle by swimming across the lake in the middle of a boatride.” Wynne replied, crossing her arms.
“Hey it almost worked.” Anders said defensively.
“There is a saying – ‘close but no nug’. Now come along young man. Lucky for you, I am not one of those pompous Senior Enchanters who don’t understand apostates.”