Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

When Elissa awoke the next morning, Zevran was already out of bed and dressed, looking out the window of the room at the empty pre-dawn Denerim marketplace square.

She stretched, feeling much less ache than she might have anticipated, given her ordeal the night before. But then, whatever it may have felt like, what she had endured had actually not been all that physically taxing. No welt nor bruise remained after the mild whipping she'd received, and if her nipples were tender, that was certainly nothing new with her pregnancy. If there was one thing that hurt, it was her throat, from all the screaming she'd done.

"Ah, you are awake," Zevran said briskly when he turned at her movement. "Good. It would not do to keep our companions waiting for us to join them, yes?"

"You're dressed already?" she asked plaintively. "Surely you're not going to waste the opportunity of the only bed we're likely to see for weeks."

Zevran did not smile. Even more distressing, he remained dressed.

"My dear Warden," he said, coming to perch beside her on the edge of the bed. "I owe you a very great apology."

"Whatever for?" she asked, perplexed.

"A great many transgressions, I fear," he said with a troubled frown. "First and foremost, I should never have introduced you to Master Ignacio. Though I understood he was dangerous, I let the preferential treatment he'd once bestowed upon me, and the memory of the pleasure I'd had with him color my judgment. I underestimated his intentions. What you suffered last night was entirely my fault. I did not foresee that he would attempt to use you to punish me. I thought he had a sexy game in mind, or perhaps he genuinely wished to conduct a Trial for you. I was mistaken."

"Oh, come now, Zevran, it's not as bad as all that," Elissa scoffed, uncomfortable with his uncharacteristically somber mood. "I'm no stranger to erotic pain; I've been testing nipple clamps on myself ever since my newly-developed breasts finally stopped aching. No real harm was actually done, and in the end, matters turned out pleasantly enough."

"And that is yet another reason I must apologize," he sighed. "When we came to Denerim, I promised you that you would not need to 'use sex,' as you so aptly put it, unless it was also fun for you. Instead, you wound up using it to get us both out of a very dangerous situation, and even more, to attempt to get me out from under the sentence of death imposed upon me by the Crows."

Elissa huffed impatiently. "Zevran, do not credit me with altruistic motives I haven't earned," she said. "You are of benefit to me, and I can use every skilled ally I can get. Moreover, right now you're helping keep me sane. If I saved your life, it was because I need you."

"Still, you should not have needed to do that. I failed in my promise to you."

"Then I suppose you shall simply have to make it up to me," she said lightly, rising to her knees and sliding her silken arms around his neck, feeling the chill of the metal studs on his armor against her sleep-warmed skin. "We have an entire day left here in Denerim. Plenty of time for you to find someone to command me to fuck for fun, rather than out of necessity."

She drew his head down, pushing up to meet his mouth with parted lips. Lightly she flicked her tongue against his, drinking in his sigh, followed by a low moan of approval. His hand rose and cupped her breast, so much fuller and heavier as her pregnancy advanced, and as he did so she felt the leather of his bracer rub against her ribs.

"Ah, my sweet Warden," he murmured, lifting her breast and bending his head low to lightly flick his tongue across her nipple, rolling his eyes up to meet hers. "Never have I seen a sight such as you last night, glorious in your passion. Someday I wish to watch you fuck another man under less dire circumstances."

Liquid heat pooled in her center at the very thought, and she began pulling impatiently at the buckles of his armor, then suddenly she withdrew, feeling queasy and voraciously hungry at the same time.

"Oh, Maker. Blast it!" She became aware of another throbbing need, one which had nothing to do with sex, pulsing between her legs. She cast an anxious glance at the chamber stool and realized that what the inn room might offer in amenities and comfort, it sorely lacked in privacy for matters that were usually attended to by discreetly slipping away behind a bush.

"I need food," she muttered, irritated. "Can you see if you can get me some bread and perhaps some cheese while I dress?"

Zevran had undoubtedly caught her look toward the chamber stood but thankfully opted not to tease her about it. It was not the first time their morning passion had been interrupted by such urgent matters, and he knew well how it embarrassed her. "It shall be as you wish," he said, rising from the bed and giving her a flamboyant bow.

He returned bearing more than just a tray of bread and cheese. "I encountered Cesar in the hallway," Zevran announced. "It seems you left quite an impression upon Master Ignacio, for he has sent another gift for you, to go with the gown.

Setting the tray aside, he offered her the long cloak he'd draped over his arm. It was finely made but sturdy, beautiful and yet practical enough for extended wear while traveling in the winter cold. Elissa stroked an admiring hand down the heavy black-dyed wool, smiling. "And here I was afraid we would not be able to afford suitable winter gear," she murmured approvingly. "This should save us a copper or two."

"At the very least," Zevran agreed. "Between this and the fee Master Ignacio paid for our service to him yesterday, our financial situation may not be quite as desperate as you fear."


*****


"Well," Elissa muttered, looking at the half-decomposed corpse in the back room of Brother Genetivi's humble house, "this is inconvenient."

"There's no sign of Weylon, the man we spoke to yesterday," Leliana reported after checking the other rooms.

"I think this is Weylon," Elissa coughed, gagging. Thankfully it was winter, and the bedroom cold. Though a few days old, the corpse had decomposed very little. She imagined in summer it would have been quite unbearable. She held a hand to her nose in an effort to block the odor, but was quickly forced to flee the room and the house before her sensitivity to strong smells had her retching in the gutter. The others joined her some moments later.

"We found some of Brother Genetivi's notes," Alistair announced. "Whoever Leliana and Wynne spoke to yesterday, apparently he didn't take them all with him. Brother Genetivi did mention heading toward Lake Calenhad, but from there he indicates he'll be heading up into the southern Frostback Mountains toward some village called Haven."

Elissa stared at him in disbelief. "Tell me you're joking."

"Um...no?"

"Maker's balls!" she cursed. "Bad enough when we thought we would have to go all the way to Lake Calenhad, but now we have to go up into the mountains in the middle of winter? Oh, Andraste's ass!"

"At least you have a suitable cloak for it now," Zevran pointed out mildly, earning himself a glower for his troubles.

Elissa sighed and pulled out her map, resting it atop a nearby barrel to study it. "All right then. We'll stop by Lake Calenhad on our way west and see if we can track down any more information about Brother Genetivi, anything that may spare us the necessity of trekking up into the mountains. The lake will be partially frozen and dangerous with ice floes, so we won't be able to get across by boat again. Instead we'll skirt around the south and stop in at Redcliffe, where we can check on the Arl's state and resupply for the journey up the mountain.

"Leliana," she continued, "I need you to go to the marketplace and locate Morrigan and Sten. Make sure they're aware we need gear suitable for mountain weather. I suspect at least a few of us are going to need new boots and we'll all need more sleeping furs and more heavy woolen socks. Damn, maybe even new tents, something made of heavier canvas in case we get caught in a blizzard. I'll go see Sergeant Kylon; our bonus from Master Ignacio isn't going to go far at this rate. Alistair and Wynne, go back to the Chantry board and see what else you can find. If you find an odd job someone is willing to pay you for, take it. I'll also see if I can track down the Blackstone Irregulars and find out if they have any other work for us. We'll meet at the inn where you stayed last night and have supper there, but I'm afraid unless we have a windfall, we'll need to make camp outside town this evening."

Her mood was terse as she left with Zevran and her mabari to seek out Sergeant Kylon. The gruff sergeant smiled to see her and gave her a polite bow. She delivered news of the body in Brother Genetivi's home and he dispatched several of his men to retrieve it and deliver it to the Chantry.

"I was hoping you hadn't left Denerim yet," he said. "I think I have just the perfect job for you...."

Contrary to her expectations, Kylon's offer of employment did not brighten her mood. After accepting the job, she stalked away from him, more furious than ever.

"Sport?!" she spat. "Bloody bored nobles, sitting on their arses all winter with nothing better to do than hope for some amusing bloodshed! Well, I'll be damned if I give it to them!" she vowed.

"Might I point out that these mercenaries are likely in Loghain's employ?" Zevran offered cautiously, and she rounded on him with a snarl.

"I don't fucking care. I'll not risk injury to myself or one of my companions--to make no mention of my babe--for the entertainment of those useless layabouts. Actually, I have a better idea," she paused, thoughtfully. "If I handle this properly, perhaps I can win some goodwill from the mercenaries. Maybe even enough to make them break with Loghain and come in on my side."

Zevran gave her a curious look. "How do you propose to do that?"

"I don't know," she muttered, groaning in frustration. "I can't offer them sex, not in a tavern full of noblemen before whom I must preserve my reputation. Flattery, perhaps? Maybe I can charm them into leaving."

An odd look crossed Zevran's face, and he stared at her for a long moment before he asked cautiously, "Warden, just how badly do you wish to make money and win allies?"

"Badly enough I'm willing to accept this asinine excuse for employment," she muttered. At his look, she answered more calmly, "Loghain's mercenaries concern me greatly. We don't have the forces to combat them, and every resisting soldier Loghain's hired thugs kill reduces our available force when it comes time to fight the archdemon. As for money, well, many of our company are geared in substandard armor with weak weapons. If we wish to be effective, we need better armor and runes so that Sandal can enchant our weapons. Right now, we don't have that; we're barely clothed adequately for the cold, and if our winter gear costs too much we won't have enough left to feed ourselves. At this point, I'll do just about anything."

Zevran nodded once. "Very well, then. Come along."

He stopped by the stall of an Orlesian merchant and bought some incense, then led Elissa back toward Brother Genetivi's house. Weylon's body had been removed, and with it much of the stench had abated. Zevran opened the windows, then built a fire in the stove to combat the cold. He threw incense on the fire and soon the aroma of sandalwood and jasmine began to pervade the small house.

"Dress yourself in the gown and stockings Ignacio gave you," he commanded her. "Wear your cloak over it."

Watching him warily, Elissa obeyed, once again astonished at how immodest the gown was. As she dressed, Zevran rearranged some of the furnishings, hauling books and papers out of the study area into the small bedroom where they'd found the body, and moving the straw-filled tick from the bed into the study, laying it on the floor. Beside it, he sat a stack of towels and a pitcher of water from the well outside. Then he shut off the bedroom. Once he was done, what little odor that had lingered in those outer rooms was no longer discernible.

Zevran carefully studied Elissa's appearance and then pulled the hood of the cloak over her head. He opened the door for her, asking her to request that her mabari stay and guard the house until they returned. When she would have stepped through the portal, his hand on her arm stopped her. He pressed close to her, his fingers snaking under her hood and through her hair, pulling her head back as he had done just the previous day when asserting his dominance over her. His lips brushed hers as he spoke softly. "By your own promise, you belong to me today, yes? No matter what I demand of you?"

"That was our agreement, yes."

"You are my whore until you end our game," he emphasized, his eyes dark and intent upon hers. "And unless you end it now, you will be a whore in actual fact when we next return to this house."

Elissa's eyes widened and her heart hammered as she began to understand his intention. Her mouth opened, and a refusal was on her lips when suddenly she stopped, remembering the words she'd spoken to him just the day before, the curiosity she'd expressed. He was offering her wish, offering her the chance to know, and it was not likely she'd ever get the chance again.

Breathlessly, she nodded instead, but it was not enough for Zevran. "I would hear it from your lips."

"Yes," she whispered, leaning against him when her limbs weakened with desire. "Yes. I am your whore."

Zevran nodded and led her back to the Gnawed Noble tavern. There he purchased a bottle of Antivan brandy from the barkeep and with a few discreet inquiries, quickly determined who was the leader of the mercenary crew carousing within, a tall, red-haired man. Making sure her face was hidden to all save by direct scrutiny, he approached the sailor.

"My friend, might I beg a moment of your time?"

"What would an elf be wantin' with the Crimson Oars?" the man demanded.

"I thought you should be aware that the city guard will be here shortly intent on driving you from this tavern," Zevran said calmly. "You see, there have been complaints...."

"Complaints?" the sailor repeated, outraged. "We have good coin, and we're breakin' none of your laws. I spit on your complaints."

"I agree, it is an injustice." Zevran's voice was heavy with sympathy. "But you may wish to reconsider annoying the nobility of the city, lest you find the source of your good coin dries up, yes? Instead, consider that your time and coin might be better spent in other pursuits."

"Eh?" the mercenary asked, and Zevran took Elissa's arm and pulled her closer. Positioning himself so that none but the leader and a few of the mercenaries closest to him could see, Zevran pulled open the front of her cloak, affording them a long look at the scandalous display of her breasts, barely concealed by the gown. With his fingers beneath her chin, he lifted her head so that they could see her face beneath the deep hood.

"A rare piece here, yes?" Zevran said softly. "No common whore, this. Trained to please a man by the finest courtesan in all of Antiva, but alas, ill luck intervened and now she is left to make her way as best she can. Her price is no small coin; she is fit to service royalty and she will cost you accordingly. But you will not likely ever see another so beautiful or so skilled, at least not one that a common mercenary such as you could ever buy for any amount of coin. All you need do is bring your men to the small house across the way. Thus, the noble patrons of the tavern are kept content, and you and your men will experience a treat none of these fine nobles will ever touch. That way everyone is happy, yes?"

The leader of the mercenary crew looked at her for a long moment, and Elissa held his eyes, letting her own apprehension show, and a blush color her cheeks. He reached out, as though he would touch her, push her hood back, but Zevran's dagger blocked his way. "When your coin is in my hand, only then may you touch."

Casually, Zevran flipped Elissa's cloak back into place, covering her gown once more, and led her from the Gnawed Noble. Before the doors closed behind them, they heard the Crimson Oars' leader calling his men to gather around and get ready to leave.

Once inside Brother Genetivi's humble dwelling again, Zevran silently took Elissa's cloak. A strange silence had settled over her; she found herself unwilling to speak, lost deep in her thoughts.

A whore in truth you will be...

This was going to happen, she thought, surprisingly unafraid. Within moments, those rough mercenaries would barge through the door. They would hand Zevran their money, and he would send her off to fuck them. Already she could feel herself getting wet, a tight, coiling warmth knotting within her belly.

A whore. She was truly a whore. All that remained was the exchange of coin.

She swayed on her feet with a sudden surge of fear and desire.

Zevran, too, had gotten quiet. He watched her cautiously, perhaps concerned that she was going to change her mind and he would be left to explain to a rowdy, half-drunken crew of mercenary sailors why the whore they were promised would not be servicing them after all. They both were wound tight, and they flinched when a loud rap practically splintered the flimsy door.

His dagger drawn, Zevran opened the door and the entire crew of sailors--Maker, there were over a dozen of them!--barged into the house. Smoothing her hands down her skirt, Elissa turned and faced them fully, drawing a deep breath that pushed her breasts up even higher. She lifted her chin and managed at once to look elegant and afraid.

"You wanted our coin, elf," the leader said, dropping a heavy purse into Zevran's hand. "That's over half the commission the regent paid us to bring our ship to this reeking city."

Elissa had to duck her head and bite her lip to keep from laughing at that. If only Loghain knew the purpose to which his money was being put....

Zevran opened the purse and quickly counted the sovereigns within. "You may have her until sundown on this, no longer," he said firmly, drawing the string on the purse with an attitude of finality.

Nodding, the leader of the mercenaries strode purposefully toward Elissa, but Zevran blocked his way once more. "One last word of caution, my friends," he said. "You could sail every port in Thedas and never see the like of this one again. Such quality does not stand up well to ill use, and a broken or maimed whore is useless to me, yes? The hound and I will be keeping careful watch. If you or your men damage her, you will pay with your blood."

"'Ow do we know she's worth it?" one of the mercenaries demanded. "I want to see more'n a pretty face afore I give up my share o' the fee."

"You wish a demonstration?" Zevran asked. "Very well. Show them, my whore, just what their money has bought."

With her eyes meekly downcast, Elissa approached the one who had spoken, and once she was before him, she sank to her knees, her skirts pooling around her on the floor, parting to reveal the black stockings and the bare expanse of thigh where they ended. Slowly, she reached out, stroking her hand firmly over the bulge beneath his voluminous breeches, and licked her lips. The half-hard cock beneath the rough fabric quickly grew firmly, and Elissa unlaced his breeches to release it.

She gave a long sigh and took his cock in hand, inhaling slowly as she stroked him with firm pulls. She prayed briefly that her throat would not betray her and, remembering her mother's lessons, took a deep breath, calming herself, relaxing her muscles, releasing all her tension. Then she opened her lips and took him into her mouth, and in, and in, until the ridge around the head of his cock passed into her throat with a slight popping sensation and her nose was pressed firmly against the hair covering his groin.

"Maker's blood!" one of the mercenaries cursed softly--it may even have been the one whose cock was in her mouth. Her throat threatened to rebel, and she knew she'd have to withdraw soon or risk humiliating herself, but for the briefest moment, she let the convulsions of her gagging stimulate the head of his cock. When she pulled back, his cock was shiny with her saliva all the way to the base, and she licked her lips again, drawing another deep, calming breath until her urge to continue gagging subsided. Then she opened her mouth once more and took him within.

She made no effort to hide the tears that sprang reflexively to her eyes each time he thrust against the back of her throat and made her gag. She was playing a dangerous game with her volatile gag reflex, and yet it was necessary to impress these men with her skills. She thought with amusement that her mother had perhaps never anticipated that her tutelage would be put to use on such common men, but it stood her in good stead.

As Elissa worked, she became aware of Zevran talking to the leader of the mercenaries.

"Ah, hers is a tragic story, yes?" he said theatrically. "Betrothed as a mere child to a great nobleman, she was. Only, her intended wanted a wife who was skilled and enthusiastic in the arts of the bedchamber, and so he paid for one of the finest courtesans who ever lived to travel all the way from Antiva to teach his young bride. I came with her, for it would be my job to protect the girl and preserve her chastity until she wed. No sooner was the wedding complete and the bride bedded, however, then civil war broke out when the regent usurped the throne. The lady's husband was killed, and his titles and lands forfeited. She was left with nothing but the skills he'd insisted she be taught."

On Zevran babbled, spinning a tale of half-truths about his pet whore's desire to see Loghain overthrown, and how she was hoping to raise enough money to support a growing resistance movement being marshaled by a number of noble houses, as well as the mysterious Grey Warden who had survived the slaughter as Ostagar.

When the leader of the Crimson Oars protested that their loyalty had been bought and paid for by Loghain's coin, she nearly pulled away from the cock in her mouth to render a scathing reply, and was saved from giving the game away by the hands on the sailor she was pleasuring pulling her insistently closer as he thrust into her mouth. Salt washed over her tongue and slid down her throat.

Whore, her mind whispered, and she felt a thrill of satisfaction at the thought.

While the mercenary held her head close, shuddering and softening in her mouth, she listened to Zevran's reply.

"Have a bit of brandy, my friend," Zevran said, pulling out the bottle he had purchased. "It is admirable that you stand by the bargain you made. But I would beg you consider also the number of nobles who oppose Loghain. Perhaps their chances of prevailing are not great with mighty warriors such as yourselves at Loghain's beck and call, but what if they should somehow prove victorious? It may be in your interest to have their gratitude. It is possible that you may not wish to serve Loghain as enthusiastically as you might otherwise have done, when he calls upon you to fight, yes? Or perhaps the coin he pays you may be diverted to some cause more worthy, with Loghain none the wiser."

Whatever the leader may have replied, Elissa missed it, for hands were upon her, pulling her up off her knees and into the crushing embrace of another mercenary, who plundered her mouth in a rough kiss. She allowed herself to smile and laugh, as though charmed by his good-natured enthusiasm, and took his hand, leading him back into the transformed study and the mattress that awaited there.

The sailor began to strip, and as he did so, she noticed that behind him, Zevran had taken up position in the doorway, her mabari seated beside him, where they could keep a protective eye upon her and make sure none of the mercenaries got too rough. Though he spoke to the mercenaries in the other room, he watched her closely, and she felt another tight pang of arousal as she remembered his words about wanting to watch her fuck another man. Perhaps this was not merely about fulfilling her desire to know what being a whore was like.

Elissa unlaced her gown and let it drop to her feet, leaving her in her stockings and corset. Shouting with glee at the sight, the gregarious mercenary was swinging her up and carrying her to the rough straw tick. No sooner did he have her on her back then he was kneeling between her legs and thrusting hard into her tight, wet sheath. Elissa cried out in pleasure, and the mercenaries in the other room shouted bawdy cheers.

The mercenary required little effort to please, and took little trouble to pleasure her. Instead, he fucked her, hard and fast, grunting and sweating above her as her stocking-clad legs embraced his plunging hips. Despite the lack of artistry, it felt good, marvelous just to be fucked without the need to perform or exert herself. It was enough to be filled, over and over, hard and deep, and her moans and cries with each deep thrust were quite genuine. Through it all, the voice in her mind taunted her, told her how far she had fallen to be servicing rough mercenaries for the sake of mere coin.

Nothing but a common whore.

Her hand slid between her body and that of the mercenary, finding her clit, and then she was soaring, shuddering and crying out as he slammed into her, his hips slapping against her. He came with a triumphant yell that nearly shook the rafters, giving her another enthusiastic open-mouthed kiss. As she used a towel to clean herself up and expelled as much of his seed from her body as she could, he dressed. But before he left, he deposited a gold coin on the table near the doorway where Zevran stood guard.

She was a whore.

Another came to her then, one with considerably more endurance than the first. He pushed her to her hands and knees and fucked her from behind. And then he wanted her atop him, riding, and beneath him, her legs over his shoulders. The other sailors were starting to shout out cheerful curses and admonishments about him taking all day when he finally came. Again, she cleaned herself up, and again, he deposited a coin on the table before he departed.

Another came, wanting her mouth this time, and another. Then it was a pair, sandy-haired, freckled twins no less, and Elissa came screaming with them both in her cunt at once, rubbing their cocks against each other as they embraced her from both sides. Then another, dark-haired and rough, pushing her to her knees and using his saliva as lubrication before he thrust into her ass.

Then there was another. And another after that. Nameless, faceless, anonymous. They weren't men, but rather cocks lined up to fuck her. This one slender, that one stout, that one long and thick. Elissa lost count, lost track of how many times she'd been fucked on her back, on her knees, the number of cocks that discharged in her mouth.

All the while, Zevran chatted jovially, charming the men, regaling them with tales of her tragedy or with rumors of the heroics acts of the Grey Warden seeking to thwart Loghain and restore the throne to either the sitting Queen or another heir. He impressed upon them the lack of wisdom in dividing a land with civil war while a Blight spreads, and how whore and mercenary alike would be out of a job if the Blight continued unchecked.

The stack of gold coins on the table mounted.

She was weary and getting sore by the time the leader of the mercenaries came to her, his shocking red hair soft beneath her fingers. Here, she exerted herself, encouraged him to lay down and let her give him a massage, using more than her hands. She rubbed her breasts against his back, tickled him with her hair, licked and kissed and nibbled her way down his spine. Her tongue slid between his twitching buttocks and caressed the knotted bud of his ass, drawing a shout from him.

When he tossed her onto her back and pushed into her, she embraced his hips with her knees and met his thrust enthusiastically, letting loose with all her energy and passion. She used every muscle in her cunt to clench down on him, making her sheath so tight it wrenched a groan from his lips. Her fingers found his hard nipples, pinching lightly as she nibbled at his chin and neck. He surprised her when his hand wedged between their bodies and located her clitoris, and she screamed in pleasure, quaking and spasming around his cock with just a few expert caresses. He spent himself inside her, and when he did, Elissa kissed him deeply, and thanked him.

She lay there wearily as he dressed, but when he passed Zevran, she heard him say, "If you can get word to this Grey Warden, tell her the Crimson Oars will come to her call."

Soon the small house was quiet, and through the dirty window she could see the sky outside was nearly dark. Zevran came to her, then, with another pitcher of water and her clothes and armor. Stretching her aching muscles, Elissa rose and counted the coins on the table. There were over twenty sovereigns there, and that didn't include what had been in the purse Zevran had been paid when the mercenary crew had arrived, nor the fee she would be paid when she reported back to Sergeant Kylon that the mercenaries had been cleared out of the Gnawed Noble. She stared at Zevran in amazement and he gave her a sly smile.

Laughing, she kissed him and began to wash and dress.

*****


"How in Andraste's name did you make that much money?" Alistair asked, aghast, when Elissa told the party over supper that they could once again afford to stay at the inn, and would be remaining one more day in Denerim to acquire some much-needed armor upgrades at Wade's Emporium.

"We found some unexpected allies and financial support in the form of a mercenary crew whom, it turns out, doesn't care for Loghain's politics," she said evasively. Luckily, Alistair was too thrilled to inquire further. Still, it didn't sit well with her to be dishonest, and she wondered why she had bothered to lie to him, now, after all he already knew about her. If she wanted him to accept her for all that she was, surely he ought to know precisely how debauched she could be.

Whore. The word echoed tauntingly through her mind, only now there was no delicious thrill of the forbidden to go with it.

When supper was over and the others had sought their rented rooms, she pulled him aside. "I lied to you earlier," she said, clenching her jaw against the urge to sound penitent or guilty. "I was hired by Sergeant Kylon to clear the Gnawed Noble of a crew of rowdy mercenaries. They weren't causing any harm, but the highbrow clientele of the tavern didn't find their presence suitably aristocratic, you see. The proprietor expected me to kill them for the amusement of her patrons, but I found the idea repugnant. So instead, I lured them out by pretending to be a harlot. I took them to an empty house and I serviced them all, and they paid me extremely well. In so doing, I also won more allies to our cause. Loghain is going to be in for an unpleasant surprise if he expects the Crimson Oars to take up arms against us after today."

"Maker's breath!" Alistair groaned. "Why? Why did you do it? And why tell me about it?"

"I could tell you the practical reasons. We are desperate, Alistair," she said softly. "We can't survive on the scant coin we've been making doing odd jobs and selling what weapons and armor we can carry from our fallen foes. We need better equipment, or we're going to die. It's as simple as that. More than that, I told you once what I would do to stop Loghain and Howe. This gave me the chance to turn some of Loghain's hired thugs against him. It brought us that much closer to finding justice for Duncan and Ca--all the other Grey Wardens.

"But that's not the real reason I did it, merely a happy benefit. I did it because it was an adventure. Because I wanted to know what it would be like to sell myself." She sighed, slumping wearily against the wall outside his room. "As to why I told you... I don't want to lie to you. I don't want to hide. If I ever have any hope of you coming to terms with me, you need to know, even if you don't particularly want to."

"Why should it matter to you?" he asked bitterly. "You seem to be doing just fine without my acceptance."

Because I'm falling in love with you. The words were there, perched on the edge of her tongue, but she found she could not speak them.

"That I won't tell you," she said softly, blinking rapidly. "If I tell you now, the day is going to come when you'll doubt my sincerity, or wonder at my motivations, and I won't have that. Suffice it to say, your acceptance matters a great deal to me."

She left him then, dashing away tears that refused to be denied, and made her way to the room she was sharing with Zevran. She undressed and bathed again, feeling filthy despite having washed after her time with the mercenaries, and climbed shivering into bed where Zevran awaited her.

"I was beginning to think you would not come," he purred, nuzzling her ear as his hand slipped up her ribs to her breast. He withdrew when a sob escaped her, however.

"Ah, you are regretting our game, yes?" he said, his tone grave. "I feared this might happen."

"No," she answered, meeting his eyes. "I don't regret it. It was fun. I enjoyed myself, and we accomplished some very important things in the process."

"Then what is it, my sweet Warden?" he asked tenderly. "Perhaps something our chaste templar has said?"

Elissa's wet eyes widened at that. "How--"

"I am no fool," he chided softly. "Why are you here, and not with him?"

"Because he can't accept what I am, Zevran. Perhaps he never will. And you do. You don't ask me to change."

"No. But then, I am not the one who has your heart," he observed. "Perhaps if I did, it would be different."

"Perhaps," she sighed, rolling to face away from him as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. His arms closed around her, but he made no effort to touch her otherwise. Slowly, her tears dried, and still he held her silently. She might have thought he was asleep but for the slight tension in his body.

Drawing a deep breath, she turned to face him once more. "I won't change," she stated firmly, seeking his lips.

She wondered if she was saying it for his benefit, or her own.