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Alim was supposed to be on guard duty, and he was, technically. The others, especially Sten and Alistair, would probably have argued that dozing off by the fire with a mabari snoring on his knee was not exactly the best example of keeping watch. The young mage wasn't accustomed to being roused in the middle of the night to sit on his own for hours, eyes peeled for danger. The dog, well, he was just tuckered out from being such a good boy all day. He couldn't be blamed for that.
His head fell forward, jolting him awake for what was probably the hundredth time, and he yawned, rubbing at his eyes and stretching as much as he could with a hundred pounds of dog over his lap. Dog, for his part, lifted his head at his master's movement, seemingly checking on the young man, then settled back down, his eyes drifting closed once again.
Alim had never had a dog before, or any pet really (the tower had had a cat, an old mouser named Mr. Wiggums, but he wasn't very friendly to most of the apprentices), and at first the giant Mabari had frightened him. Now it was the idea of being apart from Dog that was frightening. He made the young mage feel more at home even on the road, and he slept better, knowing that he was safer than even the tower could have kept him.
The young man stroked one hand idly over Dog's head, occasionally changing to scratching behind his ears, and tried to focus on watching the tree line beyond the circle of firelight.
He might have drifted off again, he felt his eyelids slipping closed and his body relaxing against the felled log, but suddenly Dog raised his head, his ears perked, and his eyes fully alert. Alim was startled into full wakefulness, his drowsiness immediately dispelled by the animal's alarm.
“What is it, Dog?” He asked, digging his fingers into the dog's coat.
As an answer, the animal's hackles raised and a low rumble began in his chest. Alim tensed, his arms breaking out in goosebumps, but it wasn't until Dog got up that he reached for his weapon.
“Pardón.” Zevran's voice came from just out of Alim's peripheral vision, and he turned to see him, hands up, eyes squarely on the hound that had placed himself between Alim and the would-be assassin. “I did not mean to alarm.”
“Dog.” Alim's hand relaxed from his blade. “It's okay, boy. It's only Zevran.”
Dog didn't seem convinced, giving Zevran a lingering look before tromping back to Alim and sitting down heavily at his side.
Zevran bowed his thanks before stepping up to the log. He made to pass Dog, aiming for the seat on Alim's other side, but the animal gave a low, warning growl, stopping him in his tracks.
“I will just sit here then, shall I?” He asked the hound, perching on the log just out of arm’s reach from him.
Dog huffed, then lay down, his eyes fixed on the Antivan.
Alim patted his head. “Sorry about Dog. He's not usually like that.”
Zevran shrugged. “He is protective of his master, and rightly so. I am an unscrupulous assassin, after all.”
“You're also an ineffective one,” Alim teased.
“On this occasion only, I assure you.” Zevran grinned, taking the jab in stride. “I am not used to such capable or well-defended targets.”
Alim wasn't sure if that was supposed to be reassuring or not.
He cleared his throat. “Shouldn't you be asleep?”
Another shrug. “I do not sleep much,” he offered, leaning back on one hand. “I thought perhaps you could use some company.”
Dog huffed.
“Some non-canine company, of course,” he amended quickly.
Alim chuckled. “I don't think he believes you.”
Zevean put on a show of confusion. “For what other reason would I brave your frigid Ferelden night air?”
“Maybe to finish the job?” Alim was teasing, but there was a solemn undertone to his voice. While not overtly concerned about Zevran's intentions, the possibility was there, and his appearing in the middle of the night when Alim was at his most vulnerable had not entirely passed by the young man's attention.
Zevran's expression sobered, the smile tilting his lips looking hollow, just for a moment, then it passed and Alim wondered if he'd imagined it.
“That would be a terrible decision, to be perfectly honest,” Zevran admitted. “The Crows are not forgiving. The moment I failed to eliminate you and your imposing compatriot, my life became forfeit. I would be, best case, executed on sight if I attempted to return home.”
Alim's ears twitched. “That’s the best case?”
Smirking, Zevean tilted his head in a dismissive gesture. “If they are feeling merciful, yes. It is more likely I would be taken alive and tortured at length.”
Alim felt himself blanch, his smile falling completely away. “But… why?”
“As an example,” Zevran responded easily, as if it wasn't a horrifying prospect. “A warning to others never to fail how I failed.”
Swallowing stiffly, Alim nodded his understanding. “A good reason not to go back,” he agreed.
“And if I am not going back,” Zevean went on. “Then there is no reason for me to wish you, or any of your friends, dead.” He spread his hands out as if to demonstrate how simple it was.
Dog raised his head, tilting it to one side, a single suspicious ear raised.
“Why would I lie?” Zevran asked, as if he could understand the animal.
“To gain my trust,” Alim pointed out.
“Aha,” Zevran pointed at the young man, a clear ‘gotcha’ evident in his voice. “But what would be the point of killing you now, when we were alone? My target was not only you, and I would never be able to eliminate Alistair as well if I abused your trust now.”
Alim frowned, considering this. “That's true.”
Dog chose that moment to get to his feet. Both Alim and Zevran looked to the animal, curious, although Zevran looked more apprehensive than anything. More so when the hound went directly to him, shoving his snout into the man's chest.
Zevran looked at Alim, his expression a mix of amusement and genuine alarm. Alim shrugged, as lost as he was to Dog’s intention.
The hound was in no mood to offer reasonings, his attention entirely focused on sniffing—seemingly every inch—of Zevran's body. Zevran stiffened uncomfortably as Dog’s muzzle got closer and closer to his neck, then the animal sat back and huffed directly into the man's face.
“Are you satisfied?” Zevran asked indignantly.
Dog sneezed and Zevran winced, his lips pulling down in a dismayed scowl as his face was spattered with slobber—then the hound turned and made his way to Alim's side again, but this time settling down opposite the young man, and laying his head on the mage’s thigh.
“Ugh!” Zevran’s disgusted cry was lost in Alim's cackling laughter. “What was the purpose of that?”
“I think—” Alim had to stop to take several recovering breaths. “I think it was a test.”
Zevran was nowhere near as entertained as he wiped dog saliva from his face and shook it off his hands, sneering the whole time.
“If it helps, I think you passed,” Alim added, motioning to the now-empty space beside him.
His eyes following Alim's hand, the revulsion evaporated from Zevran's face and he sprang to his feet, dropping onto his behind on the ground close enough to Alim's side that their arms pressed together. Dog eyed him as he settled, but made no move, closing his eyes.
“Your hound seems to have decided to trust me,” Zevran pointed out delightedly.
Alim smirked. “For the time being. It may have been more than a test.”
Zevran grinned. “I will remember that.” He turned his body to more easily look into Alim’s eyes. “I look forward to being tested by his master.”
Something in the man's eyes and his toothy grin made Alim's stomach flip. A breathy chuckle on his lips, he laid a hand on Dog’s back, the touch of his fur making him feel more confident. “I look forward to you passing.”