Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

"So I take it our Alistair's personal business did not go as well as planned?" Zevran prompted as they crossed the wide Denerim marketplace. Elissa had been there many times; in the summer it would have been dusty and sweltering and would smell of sweaty bodies and rotting garbage. Now, in the early winter, it was full of mud. Few vendors withstood the cold and hawked their wares, and the only odors were those of roasting meat from the inns and taverns lining the square.

"Whatever would make you say that?" Elissa asked in a brittle tone. Ostensibly, she was supposed to be following Zevran as he guided her to their destination, but her long, rapid, irritated strides meant he had to work hard to stay ahead of her.

"Well, your foul mood might be a bit of a clue," he answered. "If you have no desire to do as we proposed to do, by all means let me know and we shall make other plans."

"Zevran," she rounded on him angrily, then all at once her rage fled and she sighed. "I swear by the Maker I have never spoken more truly than when I say I am desperate to undertake this challenge of yours."

"Excellent!" he rubbed his hands together in delight. "However, in light of our bad start, I think perhaps a change of plans are in order."

"Oh?"

"Leliana and Wynne have gone ahead to try to ascertain the location of Brother Genitivi, so that we might get that business out of the way first. We figured a devout Chantry sister such as herself should have little trouble wheedling out the information we need. We were supposed to meet them at an inn for dinner and to find out what she had learned but I think perhaps you should will leave word with the innkeeper to have them wait for us while we attend to some other affairs."

"And what of Morrigan and Sten?"

"They will be working on re-provisioning us, depending on where our journey next takes us," he answered, giving her a sly wink. "It was decided that between two such intimidating souls, we can be sure of getting the best prices from the merchants, yes?"

"That's good. Funds are a bit scarce right now."

"Ah, which brings me to my purpose. I was on my way to make some inquiries as to where we might acquire some odd jobs to perform while we are here in Denerim when I bumped into an... old acquaintance. He was very interested to learn of the company I am keeping these days and requested to be introduced to you," Zevran looked troubled. "I had planned to refuse, but now I think it would be better to accept the invitation."

"Why had you planned to refuse?"

"The man in question... he can be a very advantageous friend, or an extremely lethal enemy. It would be much better not to know him at all than to know him and wind up on his bad side."

"Well, then, I guess I shall just have to be particularly charming, won't I?"

Zevran gave a particularly knowing laugh, and Elissa felt herself respond to it, her body still strung taut with arousal. "Ah, my dear Warden. You could charm the very birds from the trees. I have no doubt he shall be suitably impressed."

Elissa had not spent much time in the Gnawed Noble tavern during her upbringing, but she'd been there once or twice. Her first impression was that the quality of the clientele was going down, for the common room was full of common tars. Naval mercenaries, by the looks of them. It seemed that Howe or Loghain or both were gathering mercenary forces to fight the nobles who were resisting Loghain's usurpation of the regency. The realization incensed Elissa, that Loghain was so paranoid and short-sighted that he'd tear the land apart with a civil war while it was steadily consumed by the Blight.

Her anger had almost succeeded in destroying her mood to the point where she was ready to call off Zevran's game when one of the tars grabbed her, somehow mistaking her for a strumpet despite her leather armor. He identified himself as one of the Crimson Oars and began demanding her price. Zevran quickly stepped in and extricated her from the seaman's groping hands while managing not to give enough offense to trigger a confrontation, but those rough hands pushing up under the pleated kilt of her leather, bruising her thighs where they were bare between the tops of her boots and her armor, ignited something within Elissa, leaving her feeling just restless and hungry enough to consider humoring the mercenary.

When her eyes met Zevran's again, he gave a throaty chuckle. "Ah, so that's how it is," he murmured. "We shall have to see what we can find for you."

He led her to the quiet and elegantly appointed rooms at the back of the tavern and rapped on the door to one with the hilt of his dagger, in an odd, syncopated cadence. An accented voice called for them to enter, and Zevran opened the door, gesturing Elissa inside.

"My lovely Warden," Zevran said, giving the man inside a slight bow. "Allow me to introduce Master Ignacio. Master Ignacio, this is the Grey Warden I spoke of."

"Ah, yes, the one who bested you," came the reply in a soft, lilting accent slightly different from Zevran's own. The man himself was attractive in a very unassuming way, and yet there was something about the way he bore himself that said he was dangerous. "An unfortunate bit of business, that, Zevran, for it means you can never come back to us."

"Another Antivan Crow?" Elissa asked Zevran, feeling herself tense and casting a frantic gaze toward the door, which was on the other side of Zevran. Her breath quickened as she realized that if she had misjudged Zevran's sincerity, here is where she would pay for it with her life.

"Yes, but you have nothing to fear from him," Zevran said quickly. "He does not hold the contract on your life."

"And what about you?" she asked. "I thought you would be killed immediately if the Crows got hold of you."

"Not necessarily immediately. It's quite likely I would be tortured first." At her look, Zevran explained, "Master Ignacio here is a unique person. He has acquired enough power within the Crows to be something of his own man. Therefore, if he decides to pretend that a certain erstwhile Antivan Crow in his presence is not, in fact, under an order of death, then very few would question him on the point. And fortunately for me, Master Ignacio has always had a bit of a soft spot where I am concerned."

Elissa's brow arched. "A former lover?"

"Occasionally," Zevran smiled. "The material point, however, is that if Master Ignacio also wished to insure that no other masters within the Crows accepted a contract on a certain person, he has that ability as well."

"I see," Elissa hummed appreciatively. "Now that would be a favor for which I would be extremely... grateful."

"Ah, and I would do much to secure the... gratitude... of a young lady as beautiful as yourself," Ignacio said in that delicious accent. "But a favor of this magnitude does not come free, nor merely at the cost of simple... gratitude."

"Then what would such a favor cost me?"

"Much less than you might think," he replied smoothly, walking toward her. Elissa felt her heartbeat trip and lurch as he approached, more certain than ever that despite his mild appearance, this was a deeply dangerous man. He was all propriety, and yet the presence with which he filled the room spoke of something else entirely. She could see it in Zevran's deference that the elf felt it as well. Ignacio used two fingers to lift her chin, turning her head from one side to the other and studying her features. "Exquisite. Ah, yes. I think I shall enjoy your gratitude quite a lot. But in the meantime, there are other favors I desire more. I understand you are short of coin. The arrangement may prove quite profitable for us both."

"What sort of favors?" Elissa murmured, feeling something in her softening, yielding to that presence.

"Ah, first things first. There is the matter of initiation." He released her chin and walked calmly away. If her nearness had affected him anywhere near as much as his had affected her, he did not show it.

"Initiation?" she asked, puzzled. "Zevran?"

"A Crow rite of passage, I am afraid," Zevran said with a troubled frown. "Before the Crows give up their secrets, they like to guarantee that the recipient is strong enough to be trusted with them. So the initiate undergoes a trial."

"What sort of trial?"

"To put it bluntly, torture. Fortunately, Master Ignacio keeps the tradition in his own unique way. I, myself, was stretched on the rack for several hours before Master Ignacio ordered me released, for he decided I looked much better with my limbs not all pulled from their sockets." At this, Zevran gave his characteristic good-natured leer. "I will not say I did not suffer in the hours I spent under his care, but I awoke the next morning considering it time well spent."

"As... intriguing as such a proposition sounds, you will forgive me for being cautious," Elissa said, forcing down the surge of desire the notion evoked. "Considering the contract out on me, it would be extremely foolhardy for me to place myself in such a vulnerable position with a member of the Antivan Crows. Forgive me, Zevran, but not even one for whom you are vouching."

"Canny as well as beautiful," Ignacio said warmly. "Will you be worth the trouble? Yes, I think you might. Very well, I shall advance the first gesture of good faith. In this trunk beside me you will find some garments and a scroll. The garments are of no concern at the moment, but be assured you will wear them for me later, when you return. The scroll you will read now. You may learn about someone... interesting."

That was putting it mildly. Elissa perused the contents of the letter and her eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed in anger. "Interesting, indeed," she gritted.

"If you find out something has happened to him, something... unfortunate... if we happen to talk again, I give you money for... letting me know. You don't like what's on the scroll, don't do anything. Maybe he has an accident and someone else tells me all about it." His eyes were challenging as they met hers, and Elissa smiled coldly.

"Oh no," she purred. "I'll be more than happy to see what... information I can acquire on this... interesting person. And in exchange, you will call off the contract on me and my fellow Grey Warden?"

"That I cannot do," Ignacio replied, frowning. "One master already has a contract on you. Even my considerable influence cannot undo that. But, if you help us out, maybe if that master asks for help, he'll just get silence, yes?"

"And what of this other matter? This... initiation?"

"When you return we shall discuss these matters further. Perhaps you will be more trusting then?"

"I look forward to it, Master Ignacio," Following Zevran's lead, she tipped her head in a deferential bow and wondered at herself for it. It was not usually her habit to bow to anyone, and yet....

...Everything about the Crow Master made her want to obey him, please him. That presence, that strange magnetism, called out to her, demanding she yield before him... and she wanted to.

Elissa was still trying to puzzle out what power it was Master Ignacio held when she and Zevran stepped out of the inn and into the marketplace. "Ah, you feel it, too, don't you, my sweet Warden?" Zevran asked with a sigh, shaking himself as though waking from a dream.

"What is it?" Elissa asked.

"I do not know. I can play at games of power and dominance, and play quite well, but Master Ignacio does not need to play."

"Is that the intent of your game, then? To let him dominate me in your stead?" she asked, strangely disappointed.

"Oh no," Zevran gave a wicked laugh. "If I have my way, submitting for Master Ignacio will be but one play in the game. I have many other treats in store for you."

"Such as?"

"There. That one. The city guard. Look at him, so harried and stern and gruff. Wouldn't it be delightfully naughty if you could bring a smile to his lips and get him to ignore his duty for a while?"

"Hmm, I suppose," she shrugged, still too preoccupied by her meeting with Ignacio to muster much interest.

Zevran drew her attention completely and abruptly back to himself by suddenly threading his fingers through her hair at the scalp and seizing her, pushing her against a nearby fence until she was pinned with his body against hers, his mouth just a breath away from her lips.

"There is no 'I suppose,' little Warden," he said in a low growl. "Do not mistake the fact that I do not have Master Ignacio's natural ability for a weakness of resolve. While we are here, your body belongs to me, that was our agreement, no? I am telling you, you will fuck that city guard, because I command it of you. No," he paused, his expression thoughtful. "On second thought, this complacency of yours must be punished, I think. You will use only your mouth on the guard, so that you will not find your release until I say it should be so."

Elissa gasped and shuddered, suddenly wetter than a lake of Andraste's tears. Zevran was right; he did play this game well. She nodded breathlessly and he released her hair, stepping back, once more mild of manner. Drawing a deep breath, Elissa straightened her shoulders, pushing her breasts up and out, and angled across the marketplace square toward the guard.

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