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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
- 32
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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.
Thank you all so much for your continued readership! It means so much! And a BIG thank you to everyone who leaves a review!
Translations:
Mi bella: Antivan. "My beauty." Endearment Zevran uses for Riel.

Riel stepped free from her tent and stretched, her limbs still stiff from the fighting earlier. Talking with Zevran had helped to ease her mind, yet there was still one other person who she needed to see. Riel's eyes scanned the small room quickly, coming to rest finally on the vibrant red hair of the beautiful bardic rogue. Looking behind her, Riel took strength from Zevran's smiling face.
Out of the three of them, Riel would have thought confronting Leliana would have been the easiest. The woman's easy nature and kind heart should have eased Riel's anxiety. However, a knot still built in Riel's stomach as she slowly approached the fire where most everyone sat. Leliana herself was leaning against the wall nearest the flames, her eyes closed and a frown upon her face.
"Leliana?" Riel asked softly, unsure of where to begin.
With Morrigan, events had prevented Riel from focusing too much on her anger at the witch. There was no time to swear and curse out, unleashing her fury at being betrayed and her trust abused. Things needed to be killed and time was running out to save those that Riel most cared about. And in a strange way, Riel and Morrigan's reconciliation fit perfectly for who the two women were. There were no gushy feelings or heated words. Just a calm understanding that passed without even noticing that it had happened. In truth, it was just as their own friendship had come to be. An understanding between two women who shared far more than they understood, or were even able to speak of.
With Zevran, it was anger and passion. Hurt feelings that bled into frustrated tears, leading to the comfortable peace that had always seemed to have existed between the two of them. A mutual fear for the other's safety. A need to protect that went beyond reason or rational thought. Love and respect, pure and returned in equal measure. And even though there were rough edges that needed to be worked on, the love that they shared kept pulling them together again and again until everything was laid bare and exposed.
Riel's friendship with Leliana, however, was something that even if pressed Riel couldn't quite define. There was a closeness to the two of them that beyond flesh. Something easy that never needed to be pushed or demanded. Even though the two of them came from completely different worlds, there was a similar core that they seemed to share.
Leliana, a former bard turned Chantry sister, first came to Riel speaking of visions of her Maker, and how he had wanted her to follow Riel and aid her in the battle against the Darkspawn. Aid she almost immediately granted by helping to defeat a small group of Loghain's thugs hunting down any Grey Wardens who managed to escape Ostagar. However, with her speech about visions and 'destiny', Alistair wasn't the only to think the woman a few slices short of a loaf.
Yet even then, Riel felt some sort of connection with the woman. A sameness that resonated within her chest. They had both been hurt deeply by their pasts, and that wound recognized its kin within the other woman, and formed an immediate bond.
Leliana was the only one who was never harsh with her. No matter how many times Riel snapped in anger, or how often she pushed everyone anyway, Leliana still remained there. Silent and waiting until Riel's current storm passed. And when Riel's anger had cooled, and she sat stewing in her tent, Leliana was always the one to bring her food or water. Leaving it just outside her tent or bringing it to her while Riel practiced with her blades away from camp.
And while the woman would still pester and tease with light hearted words, Leliana was never cruel to Riel. Never pushed her to reveal why she was the way that she was. Never asked her why she awoke screaming at night or hated being touched. She just… accepted it. Accepted her. And perhaps that was what truly broke down the walls that Riel had built around herself when it came to the other woman. Her quiet, kind acceptance, no matter how many times Riel raged or fought. And when her raging was over and her anger spent, Leliana would be there to offer a bowl of food and a story she had once heard.
No questions. No frustrations. No expectations.
In many ways, Riel now mused, Leliana was a lot like Zevran was. The careful holes that Leliana had drilled into Riel's defences allowing for the complete destruction of them by Zevran's love and passion. Where his place in her heart was that of a lover and the seat of her soul, Leliana's was something different yet so similar. Not a lover, but something just as strong and deep.
A sister.
Without any words, Riel slid down the wall next to Leliana until they sat side by side. Giving a nod to Zevran, she smiled he as he left the two of them alone to talk. Or more accurately, just sit. For the longest time, neither woman said anything. Yet Riel knew that Leliana was not sleeping despite her regular breathing and closed eyes. However, the silence was not awkward or uncomfortable. It just… was. As it always had been between the two of them. As if through simply by being close to each other, their souls spoke more than they did.
"I'm still mad at you," Riel finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I would be surprised if only if you weren't," Leliana replied, her voice rough not from emotion but from lack of hydration.
More silence, Riel's eyes focused on her hands that fidgeted in her lap, while Leliana's eyes remained closed. Sighing, Riel leaned her head against Leliana's shoulder as images of the woman lying so close to death flashed in her mind. "I thought you were going to die," Riel whispered.
"We thought the same about you."
"I know."
"I heard you smack Zevran," Leliana stated, her grin obvious in her voice.
"He deserved it."
"I know," Leliana replied with a small laugh. "Are you still together?"
"For now."
"And later?"
"He wants something that I can't give him," Riel replied, tears pricking her eyes.
"You are everything he wants. You know this."
"He wants a future." Riel sighed, her mind going back to the time by the lake. "He asked me to marry him."
"And you do not want this?"
Riel went silent, her mind whirling. Truth was, she did want it. She wanted it all. The happiness and love and enjoyment that others had. A husband. A family. A real future. However, things like that didn't happen to her. Not just because of what she went through in her past. Not even because of the war she was fighting. It was because at the end of it all, she was….
"I'm a Grey Warden, Leliana."
"And Grey Warden's do not have futures?"
"No… They don't," she replied, a tear falling down her cheek.
"I… see…."
They were quiet again, the two of them with their backs against the cold stone wall behind them. Riel with her head braced against Leliana's shoulder, their long legs side by side and stretched out in front of them. Sighing, Leliana reached out and took Riel's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"How long?" she asked to Riel, her voice guarded.
"I don't know. A few years. The Blight makes it worse."
"Does he know?"
Riel didn't have to ask who he was. "No."
"You should tell him, Riel."
"It will kill him."
"It will kill him to suddenly lose you, without warning."
"I don't even know if either us will live past the Archdemon, Leliana."
Kardol's words echoed in Riel's mind. 'Lady, we're dead already.' Thinking about it, Riel knew the same was true for her. The taint was a constant thing in her veins. A corruption that she felt constantly, burning inside of her blood as it slowly killed her. There was no cure for the taint. No way to avoid the Calling that came to all Grey Wardens when their minds could no longer fight off that madness that they were slowly driven to. The moment they survived the Joining ritual, they were dead. Their bodies only took a while to realize it.
Time that was even shorter for those unfortunate to live during the times when a Blight ravaged the lands.
"When he asked you to marry him, what did you say?"
"I tried arguing with him," Riel laughed darkly, remembering the day by the lake.
"Of course you did," giggled Leliana. "After that though. When he refused to listen to your protests."
"I… said yes."
Leliana sat up and faced Riel, her eyes shining with their usual sparkle of mischief and optimism. "Then you do have a future."
"Filled with what? More Darkspawn? Watching me slowly go insane? Following me back down here to this cursed place to see me die in one last fight against these evil things? Because that's what a Warden's death is, Leliana. That's why the dwarves know us. Why they respect us," Riel spat out the word, hating the irony of it. "Eventually, all Grey Warden's end up back down here. Fighting against the Darkspawn until they can't fight anymore and die in some messed up idea of a 'glorious' last battle." Riel wiped at the tears forming at her eyes. "How can I do that to him, Leliana?"
"By the Maker…" Leliana gasped, tears shining in her own eyes.
Riel leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, memories of her dreams coming back to her. Memories of the cruel fate that awaited her if for some unlucky reason she failed to die as she fought against the Darkspawn. "And death is only the least of could happen to me," she murmured quietly.
"Riel, I am so very sorry…"
"You can't tell him, Leliana," Riel uttered, her voice going hard as she stared into her friend's eyes.
"Zevran needs to know, Riel! You cannot keep this from him!"
"What are you hiding, mi bella?"
Riel's eyes widened as they shot up to meet Zevran's angry glare. He stood only a few feet from the two women, his arms folded over his chest as a mixture of concern and anger played across his features. By the Void! How much had he heard?
Leliana's eyes darted between the two, agony ripping in her heart over what her friend just told her. Of the darkness and death that awaited her. And most of all for the pain she knew Zevran would soon feel, knowing the same dark secret. Yet silence filled the space between the three of them. Leliana waited for Riel to say something - anything - to start to explain the things that Zevran had every right to know as not just as a man who shared her bed, but a man who deeply loved her.
"Riel! You must!" Leliana stated, her voice desperate.
Quickly Riel's mind raced, trying to find any answer other than the one she dreaded most. Anything other than the pronouncement of her eventual insanity and early death. "Um… L-Leliana just-" Riel stuttered, her eyes moving back and forth between the two of them. "Back with the queen!" she finally blurted out. "Those daggers you bought me! I l-left one of them back with the spider queen we fought!"
"Riel…" Leliana sighed, shaking her head.
"I know how much they cost you, and they were beautiful daggers. However, when Shale carried me back here, they didn't know that I left one my daggers behind, and Leliana was telling me that I should say something. In case… I wanted to go back and get it. So I have two of them again. Because she knows how much I love them."
"My lovely Leliana, would you please excuse our Warden and I?" Zevran asked briskly, a friendly smile on his lips even though his eyes stormed.
"Of-of course!" Leliana gave a quick squeeze to Riel's hand before she carefully stood and left the two elves alone.
Riel watched the bard leave, mentally stringing together a long line of curses as she tried to think of what to say. So she was surprised when instead of saying anything, Zevran held out his hand to her. Taking it, Riel allowed him to pull her up to her feet. Then without words, he led her back over to the tent that they shared. He let her enter first, and once inside the small area, he guided her down to the bedroll.
On the floor beside the mess of furs that they used to cover their bedrolls was a large wooden bowl filled with water. And next to it was a clean cloth, folded neatly. Riel felt as if she should say something, yet no words came to her even as Zevran sat down next to her and reached for the cloth.
His face was stern, his usual smile gone and replaced with a thin line where his lips were. Riel watched as Zevran rinsed the cloth in the water then laid it to the side, before reaching for her leathers and quickly unbuckling them. With sure movements, he removed all of her armor, leaving her in the grey tunic that she usually wore underneath. Then taking the cloth, Zevran began to wash her skin down.
Starting with her arms, one hand gently holding her limb while he used the other hand to wipe the dried blood and dirt from her flesh. His movements were careful and calm, even loving. Yet Riel could tell a storm brewed within him. His eyes refused to meet hers and his jaw was locked, his expression more suited for battle than the gentle bath he was giving her.
From her shoulder down to her fingertips, Zevran wiped her clean, stopping to rinse out the cloth occasionally. Yet he didn't say any a word, even when he switched over to her other arm and wiped that one down as well. Next were her legs and feet, his hands gliding over her skin and bringing a chill despite how warm his touch was.
When both legs were free from offense, Zevran moved the cloth began to wipe down her neck and upper chest. Somewhere in between the two locations something shifted, however. A change in the tense silence that brewed between them. The angry storm in his eyes growing softer and the hard line of his lips forming into a deep frown. And as his mood shifted, so did his handling of her. Where his movements were gentle and careful before, each glide of the cloth along her skin now became a loving caress. The sadness in his eyes and the way he now touched her speaking more than words ever could.
When all that remained was her face, only then did he lift his gaze to hers. Unshed tears shined behind his eyes, a whirlwind of raw emotions reaching out to her through that one simple glance. Speechless, Riel watched him as Zevran wiped down her cheeks and face. The cloth he held wiping at her nose and forehead, around her eyes and ears. The last part he washed was her lips, pausing there to run the pad of his thumb along the pump flesh.
"How much did you hear?" Riel finally asked when the silence became too unbearable.
"Enough," he replied, his tone carrying enough emotion in that one simple word to break her heart all over again.
Zevran rinsed out the cloth one final time before folding it neatly and setting it to the side. He then turned and took hold of the bowl of water, moving to leave the tent with it. However, Riel reached out her hand and grabbed his arm, stopping him. Yet no words would spill forth no matter how badly she wanted to say them. Silently they remained like that, paused in time as an invisible battle of wills took place.
"I have already enough vows to you already, mi bella," he stated hoarsely without looking at her. "I promised you that I would never ask more of you than you were willing to give. I have already lost your trust, so I will wait until you are ready."
"I trust you, Zevran…" she cried softly.
He finally lifted his eyes to hers, the honey color darker than she had ever seen it before. "No, you don't, mi bella," he smiled sadly. "Or else you would have trusted me with the truth."
Zevran then turned and left the tent, leaving her alone in amongst all their shared things. As few as the items were due to how light they were forced to travel, every item was still a reminder of Zevran and a happier memory. A glint of light caught her attention and Riel reachout, taking whatever it was into her hands.
It was her daggers. The ones Zevran had bought for her, and had used to fight against the spider queen. Both of them. Freshly cleaned and ready to use once more.
Creators, help me! Riel cried to herself. Mythal, guide me! Please!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Zevran knew that he had no right to be upset. Not with his own secrets that he had kept from her. Yet whatever he held back from Riel paled in comparison to the revelation he had overheard her describe to Leliana. Everything that he ever done was to protect her. To make her happy and give her hope. Real hope. Not unrealistic fantasies that held no truth to them. As hard as their battles were, Zevran had always intended to give her the happy life that she deserved.
A home. Somewhere safe and far away from Darkspawn and evil creatures that would harm her. A family that would love and cherish her the way that she deserved. Dreams that he himself had never thought that he had ever wanted. Or was even possible, considering the life that he lived. Until he met her. Staring up into silver eyes that whispered to him of every impossible dream he ever had as a child.
A life that was still impossible, as it turned out.
Zevran paced towards the fire, his mind a rage of emotions that danced dangerously as he thought about her words.
He hadn't overheard the women's full conversation. When he left the two of them along to speak privately, Zevran had gone to gather some water for his Riel. He knew how she hated having the blood of their enemies dry upon her. Up on the surface, it was common for Riel to keep herself as clean as she could. Sometimes visiting whatever stream or river they camped by several times a day when she could. And when there was no water nearby, she would use whatever she had to at least keep her face and hands clean.
Zevran knew what it was like to forced to live in dirt and sweat, with caked on blood and not be able to or even allowed to clean yourself. For people who existed like that, cleaning sometimes became a pride. Something to cherish after living so long in filth. So Zevran knew that Riel would have hated to be covered as she was then. With blood, dirt, sweat, and other foul things clinging to her skin and being unable to wash it off.
And so while the woman talked, that had become his priority. Seeking out the mage Wynne, then going with her and the golem Shale to the stream close by to gather fresh water. While travelling the short distance with the two of them, Wynne had explained the gist of their fight against the spiders. The few details he had garnered from the women only increasing his anxiety over how close he had come to losing Riel.
When the three of them returned to the camp, the giant Sten had approached Zevran and handed him Riel's lost dagger. He had spotted it when he checked to make sure that spider queen was indeed actually dead. Sticking out of one of its hairy legs, even Sten admitted how impressed he was with how far the blades had cut into the monster's thick skin. Zevran had accepted the blade and went to work cleaning it for his Warden, planning on surprising her with it after her talk with Leliana.
As beautiful and expensive as the daggers were, however, they were not the only thing that Zevran had bought for her while they in Orzammar. Sighing, Zevran walked out of the camp and into the abandoned thaig just beyond it. Centuries ago, where he stood would have been a bustling center of activity. Dwarves going about their day, oblivious to what was coming for them. Now, time and the taint had left the area broken down and nearly destroyed.
The once grand buildings now mostly collapsed, their fine archways and beautiful artwork lost and shattered on the ground below. Crumbling walls and ceilings leaving gaping holes in the once sturdy homes and businesses. And all around were the signs of the spiders and other creatures that now populated areas such as these. Webbing and bones scattered together in the corners, the history of the place Zevran now stood lost forever to the past.
Zevran reached into his side pack and pulled out the dainty chain that he had carried with him since Orzammar. Far too precious to be left behind with the rest of their belongings, he had hidden it away in his side pack and carried it with him always. In his hand, Zevran held a silver linked chain, not too long, but with just enough length to be perfect for what he wanted. However, it was what rested on the chain that held the most significance to him.
Two rings. Well, a ring and an earring to be precise. One silver, one gold. The earring was his. Plain gold, it held no real value other than what it meant to him. It was the only thing that Zevran had left of his mother's. The silver ring on the other hand, that he had bought in back Orzammar along with the chain. A line of lyrium cast in the center of band was it's only adornment, but to him, it was perfect.
Simple. Elegant. Beautiful without overstatement. With a small line of the lyrium surrounded by pure grey silver. Lyrium was the source of magic for mages. Yet unless you looked closely at the band, you could easily mistake the blue line for something far more common. More accepted.
It was everything that his Riel was.
The chain would keep Riel's hand unburdened yet still allow the ring to be worn Fitted around her neck, it would be kept safe while she fought against the creatures and evils that rallied against her. And along side of it, the earring that Zevran had carried with him since he was a child. A piece of him, next to a piece of her.
He had been saving the gift for when they free of the nightmare that were these Deep Roads. A night when he could take her away from the camp and the others who travelled with them. Where he could kiss her and hold her and love her like he had done when it had just been the two of them. It was to be his promise to her, that even while they travelled with others, he was hers alone. That while the others may fight against the Blight, he would always fight for her.
Staring down at it now, Zevran again thought over what bits of the conversation that he had heard. After not only almost losing her, but almost dying himself, Zevran had decided to give it to her that very night. To beg at her feet if need be. However, now he questioned that decision.
Better hearing had always both a blessing and curse of being elven. Picking up on the conversations that others could not, or that they thought were private gave him an edge over his human competitors or marks. And so as Zevran went about getting things ready for his Warden, he hadn't exactly been eavesdropping on the women. Zevran had fully intended on giving the two women their privacy while he had set things up for his Warden. And yet, his best intentions were never quite enough it seemed.
She was dying.
The realization sparking a faded memory of something deep within his mind. Of a clouded and hazy forest and an old woman who was far more than she seemed. Yet no matter how hard Zevran tried to grasp the memory, the images just faded through his fingertips. However, the stark realization of Riel's confession stayed with him. As cold and sharp as any blade. And just as painful in his heart.
"You didn't know, did you?"
Zevran quickly tucked the necklace away into his side pack before turning to face the woman. Placing a smile on his face, Zevran called forth his Crow training to cover his emotions and replace them instead with the easy charm that had become such a second skin to him.
"Wynne! I have not thanked you properly for no doubt saving both my life, but that of Leliana's as well!" Zevran replied, smiling broadly. "I must admit that my memories of when I was ill are more than a bit fuzzy. However, I shall just have to placate myself with fantasies of you hovering over me, your glorious bosom swaying back and forth as you tended to me…" he stated with a suggestive wink.
"I'm surprised, Zevran. Riel may be a terrible liar, but you are no better than she is."
"Wynne! How you wound me!" Zevran chuckled, keeping his smile in place. "I happen to know that I lie very well. At least, that is what the women back in Antiva always told me. They also told me I am very good when I am standing, as well."
"You know, it's not easy being old. Although I must admit having a fine young man such as yourself flirt with someone of my age does make me feel young again," Wynne laughed.
"Well, as they say, with age comes experience. And I have always prefered working with others who have experience in the matters at hand."
"Young man, I have more experience than even I care to remember."
"Oh now you tease me! What a minx you are under that pressed and beautiful Circle robe," Zevran purred, his voice heavy with sexual intent.
"Well, perhaps in my younger years," she laughed, making no attempt to hide her blush. "However, I know that age catches up with me now. The truth of it being simply… well, I'm dying."
The briskness of her statement caught Zevran off guard for a moment, forcing him to drop his guard. For a split moment, true pain and emotion shone from his eyes before it was quickly covered up with his well practiced veneer of flirtatious charm. However, before he could comment, Wynne cut off his no doubt well rehearsed protests of her elderly age.
"Oh don't give me that look, Zevran," Wynne chuckled. "It is no real secret. It is just not something that someone my age likes to talk about," she added with a shrug of her shoulders. "When people are young, death is something so far away. Even for those who risk their lives everyday for various causes sometimes don't realize just how close they walk to the doors of the Fade. Usually only when you get old and have seen long years do I find that people truly grasp what it means to have their death waiting for them," she said with a sigh. "For the young, tomorrow may always bring death. Or it may yet be many, many years in the future. However, for the old such as me, death is always a close thing on our minds."
"As a Crow, we are trained to expect death from everywhere. Lives are finite, and most are not even worth the paper it would take to write out the contract calling for their death."
"And yet, I suspect even Crows sometime think of their futures. Not just days or weeks from now, but years into the future."
"Some," Zevran shrugged, his arms crossing over his chest. "However, I suspect most are too busy watching for the blade to come for their hearts. The only question being whether it will come from the front or the back."
"Death is always just a possibility though, I imagine. Something that might happen, whether today or tomorrow or years from now."
"My lovely Wynne, the only guarantee any of us are given is that death comes for everyone."
"True enough," she chuckled. "I suppose death has just been more on my mind lately than it ever used to be." She sighed as she stepped closer to Zevran. "I know my years are not as vast as they used to be. The Maker has been kind to me, however I know that soon I will join those who I have lost over the years and go to the Maker's side."
"You sound so certain."
"That is because I am," she replied flatly. "Although, even knowing that, it can be difficult to speak about for some of us." Wynne walked past Zevran and looked out towards the ruined thaig. "Nobody likes to admit that they are going to die. Even when they are as old as I am. Even when they know how close they are to dying."
"However, what if a person didn't have to die?" Zevran asked, a crack appearing in his outward defences.
"We all die Zevran. Isn't that what you said?"
"And yet it was you who said that the young usually didn't have worry about such things as death," he countered. "While still there, it was something in the future. Something that may happen years from now."
"Usually, that is the case. It is a luxury for the young. Or for those who do not suffer under the harsh demands that are sometimes forced upon them due to circumstance."
"And I do not suppose that the young in such situations like speaking of death any more than the elderly."
"Sometimes, even less so," Wynne replied with a sigh. "I can tell you that if I were forty years younger, and I was told that I only had a few years left to live, I wouldn't want to speak of it any more than I do now. Perhaps even at all."
"What of the ones who cared for you? Surely they would want to know of such a dire fate."
"Sometimes, Zevran, it's easier to pretend to be well than to face the reality of being sick. Especially when there is nothing that can be done to change what you know is coming."
"And are you certain of that? That what is to come is so unchangeable?" Zevran asked, his eyes showing the full weight of his sorrow.
Wynne sighed, her head hanging low before rising to meet his eyes. "The Chant of Light teaches that with the Maker, all things are possible. And it is no secret that our world is filled with magic and wonders, some far too grand to ever be believed. However, some things…."
"There must be a way!"
"Long ago, men who wished to grasp that which was beyond their reach marched into the very hall of the gods. And while each perhaps had their own intentions and goals, the results were the same."
"And now their mistakes are killing her!" Zevran hissed, his calm facade gone under the weight of his misery and fear for Riel.
"And yet you still have time, do you not? And time, as the Chant teaches us, can accomplish great and miraculous things."
Zevran paused, the mage's words hitting him hard. She was right. Whatever awaited his Riel, it would not happen now. While perhaps limited, there was still time to change things. To find a way to do the impossible. To attain the miracle that he needed to save her.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, these old bones of mine are calling for that hard and rather uncomfortable bedroll back at the camp," she stated with a groan. "Oh I miss my bed at the Tower. I should have brought another pillow at least…" Wynne groused quietly to herself as she turned and left Zevran alone.
"So Zevran," he laughed quietly to himself. "How do you go about defeating an ages old curse placed upon all of Thedas by a god?"
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Vhenan'ara