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Vhenan'ara	By : Arcanis_Born Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 6576 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Dragon Age: Origins is owned by Bioware, as with all its characters, the story as it deviates from canon is mine, however, as with the personalities of characters as they deviate from those in the game.
I hope you guys enjoy, and I would appreciate any reviews!
Translations:
Ser: King's Tongue. A formal title based on status, similar to "sir" in our world, but not gender specific.
Aravals: Elven landships. Used for sleeping and storing their belongings.
Shemlen/Shem: Elvhen. Literally "quick children". The original name of the Elves for the human race. Often used in a derogatory sense.

By the great Beyond, just who did he think that he was?
Inside of her tent, Riel's fury was bordering on epic levels and yet for some reason that she couldn't even begin to name, she even felt the twinges of shame in her mind. Why should she even care about the casual way that the assassin flirted with Leliana, or the way his amber eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he laughed? The greatest hurt however was caused as she laid there alone in her tent, overhearing the conversation going on outside without her. And in the silence that stretched between Leliana and Zevran speaking, horrible images would come to her mind of the two of them together in ways even still sent a chill down Riel's spine.
Even though she detested to admit it even to herself, the way Zevran's laughing eyes and smooth yet foreign accent washed like a warm bath over her skin. It seemed to smooth out her edges and calm the anger she lived with on an almost steady basis. And though Riel may distrust and largely dislike all men, she wasn't blind or stupid. She could see and hear the same reaction coming Leliana as Zevran spoke to her. And that bothered Riel more than she understood. There was even a moment after she cut his bindings that Riel felt… something… beginning to bloom in her chest as she heard him speak to her.
And yet, Zevran had shown clearly that there was indeed nothing special in the way the spoke to her. Like all men, he was easy with his affections and honeyed words. First trying to ply her with his charm, and then Morrigan. And now that they were back in camp, it was Leliana's turn it seemed. All of which just further proved to Riel just how dangerous and untrustworthy men actually were. Especially the attractive ones.
With his tanned skin, golden hair, perfect features, and lips that seemed to beg her to touch them...
Damn it!
Cursing herself for who knows how many times now, Riel pulled her mind back from the dangerous areas it was going. All men were trouble, and were never to be trusted. As soon as you allowed it, they would use their power over you to commit crimes that left more than just physical scars. Deep wounds that never healed and instead just continued to fester deep inside of a person's soul….
More than anyone else, Riel knew this hard fact down to her very bones. The Creators themselves knew that she had the scars to prove it, both physically and mentally. No matter what words were said or how nice they seemed, at their core, all men were the same. Greedy, disgusting, evil things that cared for nothing other than their own satisfaction and pleasure.
With rage fueling her mental rant, Riel absently tidied up her tent. The saner side of her mind would repeatedly tell her how irrational she was being. After all, she doubted that either Leliana or Morrigan would allow a man - as handsome as he may be - to use them in such a way. Especially Morrigan. And if the fool of an elf tried, there wouldn't even be enough left of him for the Darkspawn to use.
However, the threat that men poised was a constant worry in her mind. Riel wouldn't put it past Alistair to try use his candied words in an attempt to find his way into one of the women's beds. Afterall, he had attempted it with her on at least a couple of occasions. And each attempt was always greeted by a stiff rebuke by Riel, as well as a stern threat of violence should the ex-Templar ever try to take his flirting past mere words.
As for the grey skinned giant Sten, he had already previously admitted to killing an entire family over the loss of his sword. A murder too gruesome to even comprehend, Riel never asked the giant for details beyond that simple description of the heinous acts. So it wasn't too far beyond her imagination that he would be capable of doing if given the opportunity. A threat that Riel reasoned having by telling herself that she needed his brute strength and battle experience while she fought in a war on two ever increasing sides. With Loghain in the north and the Darkspawn at her heels in the south, Riel needed every ally she could get. And so every night that Riel closed her eyes, in her hands would be her daggers, gripped tightly in her palms as she prayed to the Creators to keep her safe while she rested.
Not that she ever actually got much rest, that is. Between the nightmares of the Archdemon and the Darkspawn that he controlled, and the terrible memories of her past, sleep since becoming a Grey Warden was becoming more elusive than a white hare in the middle of winter. Most mornings Riel awoke long before anyone else, shaking and sweaty from her dreams, her face wet from tears shed while she slept.
The horrors that plagued her dreaming her mind never truly abated come dawn's first light as most dreams did, either. No, the monsters that lived in Riel's mind stayed with her constantly. Her idle thoughts always seeming to drift back to the terrible things that haunted both her memories and her dreams. Not just memories of the part, either. But horrible visions sent to her by the Archdemon. Visions of death and blood, and wretched flashes of people suffering and screaming out for help. Or death. The mercy of death often a much more common cry that Riel would hear echo in her mind.
As Riel laid on her bedroll, stewing in her thoughts, the sound of Leliana's light laughter could be heard coming through the tent fabric. Her giggling laughter sounding as if she were some silly girl being courted. Before this night, the sound of her friend's laughter had always seemed to make Riel feel better. A soothing balm to the pain she constantly felt. Now though, Riel could only feel a strange ache take root in her chest. Added to the fact that she couldn't define her pain or give a reason to it only served to make Riel's anger even worse. Grumbling to herself, Riel sat up from her bedroll and cursed out in frustration.
Her mind told her that she was being irrational. That there was no reason to be so incensed at her friend's laugher or how Leliana's perfect smile could be heard inside her lilting tone. Whether the woman fell for the man's well used charm was Leliana's fault, not her own. However Riel still couldn't quell the anger that had risen inside of her.
What was it about this assassin that drove her anger on so much? Whatever the reason was, Riel knew that she couldn't stand being alone in her tent much longer. With unbidden images of red hair tangling with blonde causing a strange stabbing like pain her chest. Growling to herself, Riel decided that no matter what indecent things the other two rogues were doing, she was the unspoken leader of this group. And she wasn't going to cower in her tent while things still needed to be done. Like it or not, the mantle of leadership had fallen to her even though Alistair was the more senior Warden. Yet he and the others had still looked to Riel to lead them. So she had. And leading a group of people meant that she couldn't just lay there and wallow in feelings that she didn't even understand.
Plans for tomorrow needed to be laid out, provisions accounted for, meals cooked and ate, guard turns put forth, and most importantly, weapons cleaned and maintained. After all, dull and rusted daggers would do little to protect her from the dangers of the world. Or the men of the camp, if need be.
Sighing heavily, Riel left her tent and stretched her sore muscles. Oh how she longed for the aravals of her people. The Dalish landships were not overly large, especially when shared with others, but compared to the small and cramped tents that she and the others used, they seemed like heaven. Speaking of tents, Riel supposed that she might as well get their newest member properly settled in before anything else was done. Although thinking about it, she doubted that they had an extra tent for him. It as well as many other things were on her list of things needed to buy when they finally reached Denerim. However, they probably did have spare bedrolls in the wagon that Bodahn and his son managed.
Just a short distance away from the main fire stood the wagon that was tended to by the dwarven father and son. The senior dwarf, Bodahn, acted as a much appreciated liaison between the various merchant guilds and store owners. Whenever the camp as a whole needed something, he was able to at least find out who sold it and for what price. Many times he was even able to garner them a discount for their goods, as well. On top of that, in his wagon Bodahn kept a wide assortment of things that travelers such as Riel and her group would need as they would spend long weeks on the road in between cities or towns.
Poultices, potions, repair materials, and even mundane items like bedrolls, cooking utensils, and blankets were all available through him. For a small price, of course. One that Riel made certain that the dwarf was well paid for. The luxury of the dwarf's items - and convenient wagon to carry all of it in - far outweighed any disadvantage lugging the wagon around proved to be. With most of their gear in his wagon, Riel and the others were not so over burdened as they traveled, making fighting when they needed to so much easier. Not to mention the dwarven child was an excellent enchanter of rune stones, and did so free of charge for them. A great boon in and of itself.
Walking over to the wagon, Riel nodded to the two dwarves as they appeared to be playing some sort of child's card game together. When the younger dwarf, Sandal, squealed in excitement, Riel had to repress a smile as she watched him win the round of whatever game it was that they played.
"Do you need something, Ser Mahariel?"
"No, Bodahn, just getting an extra bedroll for our new companion."
"Aye, I did happen to see you come back with someone new this evening ser. Did I hear right in that he tried to kill you?" asked Bodahn as he came to stand beside Riel as she looked through the wagon's contents.
"Yes, but honestly, who doesn't want the Grey Warden's killed now that Loghain has spread his venom among all of Ferelden?" Riel joked mildly. Her attempt at levity seemed to be lost on the older dwarf however, as he continued to look at her with worry in his eyes. "Do not worry, Bodahn. It seems as if he was hired to do a job, something which he had no personal choice in I might add, and now wishes to be free from his former employers. He has sworn his oath to me, and for now I trust him."
"If you say so, Ser Mahariel. Me and my boy trust in you," the dwarf replied, still with a look of worry in his brown eyes. Lowering herself to be more at eye level with him, Riel put the extra bedroll that she had found on the ground and tried to sound as reassuring as possible.
"It will be alright, Bodahn. Everyone in camp will be watching him. If he so much as sneezes in a threatening manner, he will find himself on the receiving end of many pointed blades and powerful spells." Bodahn finally smiled at her, and she noticed the tension leave the poor dwarf's shoulders as she reassured him. Standing up fully, she grabbed hold of the bedroll and addressed him again before she turned and left. "And remember Bodahn, you can call me Riel, just like everyone else."
"Yes, Ser Mahar- I mean, Riel. Forgive me, but even after all these years on the surface, I am still getting used to how you all shorten your names. Why doesn't anyone call you by your first name, if I may ask?"
Riel got a sad, faraway look in her eyes as he spoke, and immediately Bodahn regretted his innocent question. After a moment of silence, he wondered if Riel was even going to answer him.
"No one needs to know that, Bodahn. I am just another Grey Warden, fighting against a Blight," Riel softly replied before turning and walking back to camp. Watching her leave, Bodahn sighed wistfully before rejoining his son in their word games. The boy did so love to try to learn new words and phrases, and Bodahn could hardly deny him such simple pleasures.
Back closer to the camp's main fire, Riel looked around for the assassin. To be safe, she had planned on taking his daggers away from him until they were on the road again the next day. After all, there was no need for him to have weapons that he could use to attack them while they slept. However, Riel honestly doubted the loss of his daggers would prove much of a problem even if he did indeed plan on finishing what he started in the small valley.
Riel didn't know very much about assassins, and even less about the Crows - the group of assassins Zevran belonged to - but something inside of her told Riel that this Zevran was far more skilled than he let on. Thinking back to the the fight with him that afternoon, for some reason it seemed as if he were holding back even as his blades clashed with her own. A certain hesitancy to each of his strikes, almost as if he wanted to lose against her.
"Riel! There you are, I was beginning to wonder if you were okay. You don't normally retreat into your tent so early, especially after just coming back from scouting."
Riel looked over to see Leliana look up from her heavy bag that rested against her ten, the woman holding in her hand what looked like some sort of root. Steeling her emotions and her rolling anger, Riel joined her friend by the fire just as Leliana went about adding the root to the already simmering pot over the fire. Over the past couple of weeks together, Leliana had managed to work down a lot of Riel's personal barriers when it came to dealing with shemlens, which is what the Dalish called humans. Riel still didn't trust their species, but the woman herself had earned a lot of Riel's trust and respect as they traveled together. Fighting and protecting each other everyday did that, Riel guessed.
However, making friends was not something that Riel had ever intended to do when she first left her clan with Duncan. Creators knew she didn't have any amongst her own people, save perhaps the keeper. Somehow though, Leliana and the witch Morrigan had both had managed to break down her inner armor enough to where Riel found herself rather enjoying their differing company.
Of the two human women, Leliana was outspoken, funny, and very girlish, always wanting to speak of shoes or dresses when not telling every one of her stories. Around the campfire at night she would relate stories of what life was like in Orlais, or of people that she once knew. There always seemed some sort of story ready to be told by her redheaded friend, often filling their hours in camp as they rested for the night.
Leliana had even convinced Riel to let her braid her hair once after she had taken a bath once evening. Something that was no small feat as Riel loathed to be close to anyone, especially humans. But again, Leliana always had a way about her that seemed to lower Riel's defenses. She was always quick to make Riel smile, and over the short weeks since meeting, their relationship had developed into something that Riel still had trouble defining. Something akin to friendship, Riel guessed. Yet somehow more than that as well.
The sly rogue had even managed to pull a promise out of Riel to go shopping together when they finally reached Denerim. How, Riel still wasn't exactly quite sure. Yet that was the way things were with the other woman. Like water moving downhill, their friendship had flowed on despite the obstacles that Riel tried to put in way of it.
Morrigan on the other hand was very much the opposite of Leliana. Quick witted and sharp of tongue, the woman seemed almost cruel to everyone who knew her. Creators knew Alistair thought so. However, through long talks in camp, Riel had come to see a different side to the witch. She was funny - in a very dry and morbid sort of way. She also had no qualms about speaking her mind, no matter the topic. In fact, Riel could always count on the witch to tell her the truth, even if it was unpleasant.
At times the dark mage could even go so far as being comforting whenever Riel had an argument with Alistair over something he said or did. Although it did seem as if that was a side of her that only Riel got to see. Their private talks by Morrigan's fire usually consisting of hating on the male gender, or on rare occasions the woman entertaining Riel with stories of what her life was like before joining their group.
Despite their talks, Riel knew the dark witch to be very private and subdued, often keeping to herself at her own separate fire several feet away from the rest of them. That didn't mean that she didn't come and sit with them occasionally, but more often than not Morrigan would fill her time either by her own fire, or gone from the camp entirely. A trained shapeshifter, she would often spend the night in one of her animal forms, doing only Creators knew what as the hours passed. Morrigan was an individual that thrived best when left to her own devices. Something which annoyed Alistair to no end, especially in the beginning when Morrigan would disappear into the night air only to return hours later.
Riel rarely if ever questioned the witch on what she did on her outings. She well understood the need to get away from people for a time and be by oneself. While living amongst the Dalish for these past few years, Riel often sought the solitude of the forest, away from the prying and questioning eyes of her adoptive clan. Out in the forest, she could be herself without fear of judgment or reprisal. And given how Morrigan was raised in and around the southern Wilds, Riel assumed Morrigan felt much the same way.
In their own ways, both Leliana and Morrigan were like flip sides of a coin. Each of them calling out to a different side of Riel that only they could understand. Many times Riel wished that she could be as open and happy as Leliana. With her laughing attitude and positive outlook. When they were together, Riel could forget for a time the Darkspawn at their backs and Loghain at their necks. She could laugh and listen to stories like a normal woman her age. And with Morrigan, she understood the dark witch in ways Riel guessed the others didn't. To be distrustful of humans and others in general. Even her dark and morbid sense of humor echoed in Riel as they would sometimes joke about all the ways to do away with Alistair whenever he said or did something that upset Riel.
For the first time in her life, Riel felt as if she had real friends. Strange, she thought, considering the state of the world and the coming Blight. Another cruel twist of irony that fate would require the very world being threatened before Riel would finally find people that she could relate to.
The men of the group on the other hand...
Alistair was decent enough most times. As long as he kept his mouth shut. When he wasn't being an ass, he could even sometimes be kind. However his sickly sweet attitude towards Riel and his constant corny jokes only wore on Riel's nerves. Not to mention how he would occasionally make rude remarks involving elves even directly to her face without seeming to think of how his words would affect Riel. In battle, however, Alistair was exceptionally skilled and fought well at her back, even if his personality left much to be desired otherwise.
And Sten... well... Ever since releasing him from his cage in Lothering, he had been quite mostly. Rarely did he ever speak, and when he did, he seldom wasted words. He never complained when it was his turn to stand watch, and often would go the whole night without waking the next person to take over.
When Riel would question him about it, the giant insisted that being a Qunari allowed him to stay awake longer. A contraction of stoic compassion, rationalized away with remarks about how the rest of the group needed their sleep if they were going to fight against the Blight. And even though he spent most of his time in quiet solitude, his actions when involved with the group were never cruel. Despite the horrific things he had committed in his past, Sten stoicism was even at times kind, if distant.
And yet Riel still couldn't forget how even he admitted freely of his previous crimes. An entire family - even children - killed in brutal cold blood. There was no denial of his actions on his part. He didn't even claim any rationalizations for them. He just simply admitted his crimes, as cold and factual as if he were retelling of someone else's crimes. Even when Sten had retold the event directly to Riel, the giant spared no time for emotions in his retelling, even regret. An emotion that one would assume any rational person would feel at doing something so horrific.
When Riel had petitioned the Revered Mother of Lothering's Chantry to release the Qunari into her care, the Mother herself told Riel that any future crimes he committed would also hang around her neck as well. A warning that Riel didn't take lightly, yet the threat that loomed over all of Ferelden weighed most in her mind. At the time, there was only herself, Morrigan, Leliana and Alistair. Four people and a mabari to take on the entire Darkspawn horde and Loghain's army.
As Riel measures her choices, the thing she kept coming back to was simple numbers. She needed allies. The Darkspawn horde was not getting any smaller, and every day that passed, Loghain gained more supporters against the Grey Wardens with his twisted lies. If the Qunari was willing to raise his blade for her cause, Riel would welcome him. He indeed was an amazing fighter, and despite his overbearing size and intimidating presence, Sten never once treated Riel with anything other than respect. Not once had he even tried to get in Riel's good graces with sickly sweet yet hollow words and empty gestures like Alistair did. With him as with the witch Morrigan, you got the truth, even if it wasn't something that you wanted to hear at the moment.
"Are you okay, Riel? You look as if you have something on your mind."
Riel snapped forward from her introspective thoughts, and turned to face Leliana with a small smile that she was sure never quite reached her eyes. "Yes, I am fine, Lei. Just wondering where our new assassin friend has gone to."
"Zevran? Oh, I sent him off earlier in search of more wood for the fire. I have to say though, after you yelled at him, you should have seen his poor face! All puppy dog eyes..." Leliana giggled to herself as she began stirring the pot in front of her. "I think that I saw Alistair go after him not too long ago though. They should probably still be together, even."
Riel felt her breath catch in her throat. Alistair and Zevran alone in the woods? Oh Creators, let them both still be alive! "How could you let Alistair go after him? What if Zevran tries to kill him once they are away from camp? Or worse, Alistair kills Zevran?"
Leliana looked shocked at Riel's outburst, not really thinking much of the two men leaving camp. It didn't ever occur to her that they might try to kill each other once out of sight of the camp. "They went over there, perhaps ten minutes ago," Leliana replied in a rush, putting down the spoon that she held and pointing off towards the west of the camp.
Riel hurriedly ran off towards the direction that Leliana pointed to. Inside her mind was a whirl of emotions that she couldn't quite understand or sort through. All that she knew was that the thought of either one of them winding up getting killed was like a sharp knife in her chest. For some reason, the thought of it being Zevran lying dead a sharper cut than if it were Alistair. Cursing to herself, Riel called out through the thick trees for Zevran. However, the darkness eclipsing the thick trees around their camp prevented even her superior elven sight from seeing much past the light of their fire.
"Zevran! Where are you, you flaming elf?!"
A few tense moments passed where Riel debated what to do. She could go back to the fire and fashion a torch to go look for potential bodies, or she could try her luck with just her elven sight to guide her. Who knows how long it would take to find and fashion a torch though? Moments when either of them could be bleeding to death in the dark forest.
A minute later, Riel sighed audibly when she heard the crunching of leaves and twigs as a notably irritable looking Alistair came stomping out from the trees. Piercing her with a glare, he just walked back to his tent without saying a word. As the seconds ticked by and no one else showed, Riel's anxiety increased higher until she a single second away from marching into the forest on her own.
However before Riel could place one foot in front of the other, Morrigan slipped from the shadows and walked up to her, a look of sinister delight on her face. She gave a sly wink to Riel, her signature coy smile on her lips as she walked back over to her own fire pit on the opposite side of the camp.
What in the name of Beyond is going on here?
"Ahh, my dear Warden. You called for me? I have to admit, that is not exactly how I imagined that you would be screaming out my name, but alas, I will take what I can." Riel turned back from where her other two companions had come from to see the attractive elf walk towards her, his arms full of various sizes of wood.
"Uh... Y-Yes..." Riel stuttered softly, admonishing herself mentally for getting caught for the moment in the strange sparkle in the young assassin's eyes. Turning her head away, she desperately tried to hide the blush that she felt come to her face. Her eyes searching for something to latch onto other than the beguiling look he gave to her, Riel spied the bedroll in her arms. Her mind suddenly finding traction in her original purpose of trying to find the assassin in the first place. "Here. W-We don't have any e-extra tents right now, but you will fine with this until we reach Denerim in two days," she replied, practically tossing the bedroll at him.
Zevran caught it with one hand while still holding onto the twigs in the other, a smile never leaving his handsome face. "You are too kind, my Warden. However, I was hoping to perhaps be sharing your tent with you..."
Her earlier embarrassment lying forgotten in the fury that roared to life from his insinuation, Riel laid a lethal glare at him. "You will do no such thing, assassin! I am not here to... to-to play to your whims, I am here to lead an army against a Blight!" Riel was gesturing wildly her hands as she spat out the words in an angry and venomous tone. And yet despite her reaction, the other elf just continued to smile at her as if he enjoyed angering her! Riel paused, her pride refusing to give him the satisfaction of her continued rage. Taking a breath to calm herself, she willed her fury under control even as she still glared at his smiling face. "Now, while I have you here," she said stiffly, her tone sharp despite her efforts to be calm. "Until such a time when I say otherwise, under no circumstance are to you leave this camp without informing me. I have enough to worry about without having to think you are waiting in the shadows to take another shot at my throat."
"Ah. I see you are still a bit mad about that," Zevran replied in a contrite tone of voice. "However, after meeting you and seeing the rare treasure that you are, I have to admit that it would be an absolute disgrace to mar that pretty and tempting throat of yours," he replied, his voice becoming thick with emotion for a moment. "Yet, I will do as you ask. After all, knowing when I leave to bathe will allow you plenty of time to sneak away and stare luridly at my naked body," Zevran laughed, giving her a suggestive wink to match his words. And as he watched Riel's face turn deeper shades of red, he wondered silently to himself if she was as beautiful when enthralled by passion and not just embarrassment or anger.
"H-How d-dare- I-... There is... Wh... Ughh!" Riel's temper flared as she stormed off towards her tent again. Muttering to herself, Riel knew she had to put some distance between the two of them. As it was, she was far too tempted she was to just gut the presumptuous elf where he stood for even daring to speak to her like that! There was no way that I would ever...! her mind raged as entered her tent and sat down heavily on her bedroll.
Sitting cross-legged in her tent, Riel mentally went over all the ways she wanted to kill the elven bastard. However, a sudden and unbidden image of Zevran naked in the water placed itself front and center in her mind's eye. Feeling her face flush once again, Riel banished the traitorous thought from her mind and took out her whetstone, wherein she started angrily sharpening the blades of her daggers. Never once in her life had she felt more embarrassed and angry at the same time! What was it about him?

****Outside in Camp****

Zevran couldn't help but smile broadly at how flustered he had managed to get his Warden. He knew teasing her as he did would probably end badly for him, but the fire that sparked in her eyes whenever she was furious at him was far too alluring to not be tempted by. Plus the way that her skin flushed whenever he got her angry added such a beautiful glow to her skin. His mind begging to know if her face and neck would flush so deeply while in the midst of passionate lovemaking.
Chuckling to himself as realized his previous wish for death had no morphed into a completely different form. Instead of wishing to die in battle as any Crow should, Zevran now found himself begging for death by the lovely hands of the female Warden herself, it seemed. Well, at least his last sight would be her beautiful face looking down at him. A fitting end for someone such as he, Zevran mused. And one not entirely disagreeable to him, he realized. Even the looks of disdain mixed with shock on the faces of his new comrades were not enough to wipe the silly grin from his face.
"I don't know what you said to her, but you should consider yourself lucky to still have your head, Zevran."
Zevran looked over at the red-haired beauty who spoke, not being able to keep himself from comparing the two women in his mind. Before that fateful battle, Zevran could see the beauty in most of the women that he came across. Lust was an emotion of the present, never lasting longer than the woman's presence or current bedding. Each woman holding their own charms, he could easily find himself imagining what each might look like amidst the throes of passion or wrapped tightly in his arms. However, since the moment that he had first looked into the silver eyes of his savior, all Zevran could think about was her. Even the witch Morrigan, who surely was beautiful enough in her own right, couldn't make his mind wander into more lustful activities.
"I think maybe that my charm is not taken as well as it usually is with our dear Warden. Perhaps I must try a different approach, no?"
"No."
Overhead, Zevran heard the familiar voice of the male Warden. Looking up from his seated position by the fire, Zevran was sure that he should have felt some form of apprehension at the armored warrior standing next to him. With a scowl on his face and his arms folded over his grey breastplate, the warrior was no doubt intimidating to most who would view such a look coming from him. Yet for as much as the beautiful Riel compelled and enticed him, this young Templar was like friction against his skin.
Like an animal with its hackles raised, Zevran couldn't help but feel on guard and uneasy around the human. There was just something about him that raised Zevran's ire, and told him to be cautious, despite his young and naive appearance. And yet at the same time, that very presence which begged caution also brought out a strong desire to mock and poke at the Templar. A desire Zevran was more than happy to oblige to.
"I agree."
Zevran looked over to where the deep baritoned voice originated. "Well, the giant speaks, after all!" The giant called Sten now stood just to the side of Leliana, his stance mimicking Alistair's. Both men having their arms crossed over their chests and glaring murderously towards Zevran.
"The job of the Grey Wardens is to defeat the Blight, not dally with elven assassins," Sten continued, his deep glare not abating despite Zevran's wide smile in response.
"Oh boys! Enough! You both should know that Riel has never even looked at a man since we have met her. And Zevran is harmless enough, aren't you?" Leliana stated, interrupting the scowling contest the two warriors were waging. With her inner roguish charm on full display, Leliana looked over at Zevran and winked at him, even as she continued stirring the pot that contained their evening meal.
"Like a kitten!" stated Zevran with a broad smile, his arms opening up wide as he feigned innocence.
"Hmph!" was all Sten said as he went back to being lookout for the moment.
"Besides, you both should know more than most how well our dear leader reacts to men. She might just beat you to killing him if he is not careful," added Leliana with a giggle.
"We can only hope," Alistair muttered and he took a seat on the other side of the fire.
"Ahh! A challenge! And what is life without the threat of death?"
The two human companions just stared at him for a moment before chuckling to themselves.

****Inside Riel's Tent****

Riel heard their laughter outside and sighed. At least them laughing was better than the horrible tension that existed a moment ago. Gritting her teeth, Riel unbuckled her armor and placed it neatly in a pile by her bed. Later, after they had all eaten and gone their own ways for the night, she would go out and get whatever food was left. If there wasn't any, it wasn't a big deal in her mind. It wouldn't be the first time that she went hungry for a night. Afterwards, Riel planned that she would go and relieve Sten of watch duty and take over for him. Originally she had planned on having Morrigan take over, however Riel doubted that she would able to sleep with their newest addition still fairly untrustworthy.
Besides, talking with Zevran brought up too many old feelings that she didn't want to deal with. Feelings attached to memories that still cut her deeply, even after all the years that had now passed. Memories of chains and whips and the cold laughter of the men overtop her while she cried, begging for the mercy of death.
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Vhenan'ara