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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
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- 45
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.
Please do tell me what you think so far of the story! I would love to know your opinions!
Thank you all so much for your continued readership! It means so much!
Translations:
None this chapter.

"Well, you have succeeded in getting me alone, my dear Templar. Alas, there is to be no naked oil wrestling, so I suppose I will just have to make due with more entertaining ways to teach you the lessons you so sorely are in need of."
Alone in a small clearing of the brush and woods that existed beyond the camp, the two men stared at each other. Far enough from the camp as to not be disturbed, yet not so far away that they were left without aid in case something came along wishing to take advantage of their disarmed status. Standing no more than six feet apart, their bodies seemed primed for conflict even if they both expressed it differently.
Alistair, with his warrior and Templar training, rolled his shoulders as his body primed itself for strength and brutality. His muscles tensed and relaxed, coiling in anticipation of doling out damage with hard yet precise strikes that focused on strength and focused power.
Zevran on the other hand was almost the exact opposite. His stance wasn't one that suggested battle, but of relaxation. The muscles under his clothing did not tense and release as Alistair's did, begging for action. Instead, his body spoke of the lazied calm one would expect of a man at rest in safety. Even as each man circled the other, Zevran's stance remained at ease while Alistair's stature boiled with promise of pain yet to be delivered.
"Teaching me a lesson, assassin? That's a laugh. I may be without my sword, but that won't stop me from making you bleed for every insult and filthy word you have uttered since joining us. And that is not even counting what I am going to do you for what what you've done to Riel."
"What I have done? Tell me, what have I done, Alistair? Made her smile? Made her laugh? Given her a restful night's sleep for the first in her life? Yes, such wicked crimes I have committed," Zevran laughed.
"You know what you've done, elf!" Alistair roared, lifting an accusatory finger and pointing it at Zevran's chest. "Your sneakiness may work on her and the others in camp, but I've seen what your kind does. I've seen what men like you do to the poor women who are unfortunate enough to be fall into their paths!"
Zevran sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "It is true, there is much in my past that I have yet to atone for. Much that I do regret, while others, not so much. And the gods know that I haven't always acted in the best ways in regards to the lovely female Warden. Yet those actions are not yours to call out for recompense for."
"So you admit that you've hurt her!" cursed Alistair, his face reddening from anger.
"Alistair, I will never deny my failings, especially when it comes to Riel," Zevran hissed out, his eyes sparking anger as he looked at the man across from him. "However, none of what I have done was ever due to selfish desires on my own part. I may have stumbled in my care for the Warden, but I have never set out to cause her pain. Can you honestly say the same? How much of your interest in the Warden is because of your own selfishness? You claim to care for her deeply - even love her…-"
"I do love her, assassin!"
"So you claim. Yet you do not speak to her as a man in love would. As a man in love should. Your words show that you have nothing but a selfish obsession with the Warden! One that is based on your own needs! Not hers!"
"What do you know of love assassin? People like you know nothing of real feelings! Lying and scheming to gain people's trust! An assassin raised in a whorehouse in Antiva thinks to lecture me on love! Maker preserve us!"
"You are right, Alistair," Zevran smirked, shaking his head sadly. "I am the son of whore, raised in a whorehouse and trained by assassins until I was little more than another weapon to be used by those who owned me. What do I know of real love? Yet I have seen the illusion of love sold more convincingly than what you have expressed for Riel. You are no different than the men who came to spend their coin on the whores who danced for them. With your own desires standing as firmly as the cock hidden behind your trousers when you see a beautiful woman before you. The object of your desire - a simple means to an end. And when you attain that slice of purchased heaven, you move on, seeking another well to fill."
"How dare you! That is not how I feel for Riel!" Alistair roared out.
"Isn't it? A man in love would not call her people knife-ears. Or say that he understands why they are put in the Alienages that keep them separate from the rest of the people. Or that the Dalish - the people who adopted her - are savages for living outside of the cities and towns. Yet I have seen you say all these things. Even in front of her! You say you love her, but would a man in love rush forward his own plan to crush her with devastating news immediately after escaping a literal hell that had already left her drained and weary?"
"It was your letter!"
"Precisely. My letter. The context surrounding it was mine to tell, not yours. And even had I wished to reveal the letter to Riel - which I was planning to do after I dealt with my former clanmates - I wouldn't have been so daft as to place such a weight on her immediately after exiting the Deep Roads! A place where she suffered constantly, because for some reason you were too important to risk to such evils!"
"I wanted to take her place in going! You know that!"
"Yes well, it seems my mother wasn't the only whore, was she? The difference being that I learned to become a gentleman even though I was an assassin. You on the the other hand, my dear Templar, have ever remained the bastard."
"That's it!" Alistair roared as he rushed forward in a frenzy, his right arm reaching back in ready to strike out a punch. Unfortunately for Alistair, Zevran had been waiting for his attack. With a quick step to the side, the more agile elf dodged the attack entirely.
"Oh much too slow Alistair!" laughed Zevran, his eyes lighting up in evil mischief.
Alistair quickly turned and struck out with his fist again, yet all he hit was air where the damnable elf's jaw should have been. On the third strike, Zevran rolled along to the outside of Alistair's body, bringing the back of his elbow down hard against the back of the warrior's head. Alistair stumbled forward a few steps, his vision flashing stars before he shook out his head to clear it.
"You know, I could teach you to not to show off your attacks so easily, my friend. It could help…"
"Teach this, you blasted elf!" Alistair growled as he came at Zevran again. Only instead of striking out with his fist, Alistair feigned the blow of his right fist just enough to get Zevran to attempt another roll to the side. Alistair then struck out with left fist, landing solidly in the elf's stomach.
The air momentarily gone from his lungs, Zevran was not prepared for the hard drive to his midsection from Alistair's knee. However he used the downward momentum to duck down low, sweeping out his leg and knocking Alistair to the ground before he could land another blow.
"Better, Alistair," Zevran replied with a cough, still smiling even though several of his ribs now felt broken. "However, you still need to focus more on your footwork. Even for a warrior, you are far too clumsy."
Alistair scrambled to his feet, his eyes seething in hatred and anger as he stared at the other man. "Don't you ever just shut up?" he growled before rushing at Zevan again.
Two missed strikes hit only air, while a third was feigned yet still the counter that followed was missed. In a rage Alistair opted for a straight out drive of his whole body, knocking both of them to the ground with Alistair on top. While Zevran tried to dodge the hits that the warrior struck with, his ability to move was hamped by the weight that now sat squarely on his already aching ribs.
"You took her away from me! I was supposed to be the one to have her! To ease her pain! To help her sleep and smile and be happy again! It was me! And you took it all away!" Alistair roared out, bringing his fists down in heavy blows to Zevran's face and jaw.
Zevran knew he wouldn't last long like this. Already his vision was dimming and his head felt ready to split apart. Yet he would not fail in this. Not when he wasn't just fighting for himself, but for the one person in all of existence who he would gladly die for. Zevran reached down for that inner well of power and resilience that he touched whenever he fought in a battle and was close to collapsing, yet stubbornly refused to while his Riel still needed him. That slice of himself that he never even knew existed until he first saw her dancing with her blades as she fought against the trap that he had laid.
Locking one arm around Alistair's knee while the other arm he used for the added leverage he needed to swing one of his legs up and around Alistair's waist. Difficult, yet Zevran was nothing if not flexible, stemming from years of training and his natural elven biology. With a well timed twist, Alistair was rolled off Zevran's chest and to the ground beside him. In a flash, Zevran was straddling Alistair, a small knife that he had taken from his boot up against the warrior's thick neck.
"So much for no weapons. You can always count on an assassin to cheat," Alistair spat out as he glared up at Zevran.
"What? This?" Zevran asked, looking down at the blade that he held. "This is no weapon, Alistair. It is merely a tool. One that has many uses, I might add. It can cut one's food. Pry apart loose pieces of wood. Cut bindings, or even clean under one's fingernails. Yet it is no weapon. I would not disgrace the very real daggers that both the lovely Riel and I wield by calling this thing a weapon."
"You both may use daggers to fight, but Riel is nothing like you."
"Ah, in many ways you are right, my dear Templar," Zevran said with a deep sigh. "She is a light to the darkness that I have lived in. A warmth to the coldness that was my existence. In so many ways, she is better than I. Her compassion, her desire to aid those in need. Her ability to forgive even those who are completely unworthy of her…."
"Such as yourself!"
"I have never denied such! Believe me, my friend, I know very well that I do not deserve the goddess that she is. Yet for some reason, she has chosen to share her love with me."
"Because you tricked her!"
"Tricked? No. I have not tricked her, Alistair. I have only chosen to love her in the way she needed to be love. Not as some selfish act to possess, but as one devoted to her every happiness, whether that is with me or not." Zevran smiled sadly, his memories of the wretched nights spent away from her surfacing in his mind. "You see, a man such as yourself would go to any length to possess that which he sees as beautiful and precious. And that is to be commendable, in it's in own way. However, some things are never meant be to possessed. They are too wild; too free to ever be controlled. They would suffer under any claims of ownership, and would never be happy within the walls one like you would erect to keep them safe."
"You know nothing of Riel!" spat Alistair, his temper still seething.
"Oh I know her very well, my dear Templar. For as much as she is different and so much better than I, we are still so very much the same."
"She is nothing like you! You kill for the pleasure of it! You hunt down and murder people for coin or because you simply could. Riel is not like that!"
"Is she not? Have you not seen the wildness that overtakes her during battle? The deep satisfaction that she expresses whenever she cuts down another living thing, whether bandit or otherwise? Remember that not everyone who Riel ever had killed attacked her first. There were several times where she quickly reached out and slit the throat of men who merely threatened her. There were battles that she could have even easily avoided, instead she launched her own surprise attack, routing every last enemy before her. She enjoys the killings, Alistair. The blood that she sheds with her daggers. Knowing that because of her, another pile of filth will no longer plague the people of Thedas. She is a goddess, but not one of dainty vanity that would look on dark deeds with horror. No, she is a goddess of war. Of battle. Of beauty and awe even as blood covers her and the screams of her victims echo in her ears. The lovely Warden may show deep compassion and kindness to those she deems worthy, yet she is a vengeful goddess of death and destruction to all those that oppose her. And she revels in it."
"Then it something you have done to her! Corrupting her!"
"You are free to convince yourself of that. However even you cannot be so blind as to truly believe something so foolish. Think back to the battles you fought before I laid my trap for you Wardens. You travelled with her for weeks before I met any of you. Think to the battles at Ostagar. The fighting leading to the town of Lothering. Even the bandits and thugs you met afterwards. Remember her face as she killed each one. The look of satisfaction on her face when they all laid dead at her feet.
See, you have mistaken Riel as a woman in need of saving. A pretty thing alone in a tower, waiting for her knight to come charging to her rescue. Yet in truth Riel would have set fire to the tower and all that bound her, as she did every other time others have tried to bind her to their wills. She is not a maiden to be saved. She is a woman to offer your aid when she can no longer stand on her own. To feed when she forgets to eat herself. To listen to when she expresses her worries and fears. And to hold her when the strength that she has clawed to herself wavers under the impossible weight that is placed upon her.
She is a force of nature, going where she will. Never to be controlled or tamed. One cannot tame the wind. Or control the rain as it pelts down relentlessly on any caught in its path. Rescue a fire as it burns its way across a plain of grass. Riel doesn't need rescuing. The only thing a woman such as Riel needs is a safe place to rest while she rescues herself, and the rest of the blasted world who always ask far too much of her."
"I have seen the way that you look at her. You wish to tame her. To bind her to yourself with your well practiced charm and sweet words!"
Zevran sighed, pushing himself off Alistair and standing up. "No, my Templar friend. I have never wished such. My only wish is to love her. And for my love to be accepted by her, in any way in which she wishes it. You see, you were right about one thing. I knew nothing of real love. Not until I met her. Not until I realized that my happiness, my desires, even my very life were meaningless when it came to her. That if she said the word, I would gladly sacrifice my life to make her happy or to ease her burdens. That if she sent me away from her, I would willingly leave her sight. Yet I could never abandon her. I would still watch her, keeping her safe even if she never learned of my presence.
Before Riel, I knew nothing of love. Since she has so graciously allowed me into her life, I have known every emotion possible to such an extent that would have made no sense to the man who I used to be. Joy, sorrow, jealousy, hate, anger, fear, happiness, and most importantly love. You say I wish to tame her. To bind her to myself. Yet those are the last things that I ever wished. You see, Alistair, you do not tame that which you love. You do not bind it, instead you set it free. You do not seek to possess it. You open yourself up, so that it can possess you.
That is what I have learned love to be since meeting Riel. Believe me if you wish to or not. Yet I simply can no longer stand by while you so carelessly hurt her with your words and actions. Grey Warden, prince, ally against the Blight... None of that matters to me. What matters to me is that no more of Riel's tears are shed due to your callousness. That she doesn't have to battle against you while also battling everything else that fate has thrown at her."
"I hate you so much…" Alistair groaned in exasperation, his eyes on the sky above. "However, perhaps you are right about a few things…" Alistair then lifted his arm up, offering his hand to Zevran. "Help me up, you sodding elf."
Zevran chuckled, striking out his palm and clasping Alistair's outstretched arm. Yet as soon as their flesh touched, Alistair yanked his arm down roughly, pulling Zevran down to the ground. In a swift move, Alistair had Zevran on his stomach, face first into the grass while the arm Alistair still clung to was twisted behind Zevran's back at a painful angle. With one heavy palm holding down Zevran's arm and the other on the elf's neck, Alistair had the man pinned down beneath him.
"You are right that fate has given Riel far too much to handle. I'll agree with you about that. But that is precisely what you will never understand about her, and something only another Warden can," Alistair hissed down into Zevran's ear. "Only another Warden will know her troubles, assassin. Will know the pain she suffers. Will understand the heavy burden take being a Grey Warden is. And only another Warden will ever understand the Taint that courses through her even now. The same as it courses through me. That is a connection that you will never have with her. And when her nightmares come… When she sees the Darkspawn in her dreams and hears the voice of the Archdemon calling her down one last time into the Deep Roads… I will be there for her. I will understand her like you never will. And that is something that all your false charm or honeyed words will never be able to take away from us."
Zevran coughed slightly, the sound mixing with his deep laugh as he laid pinned under the warrior. "You know, that would be true, my Templar friend. Except for one little thing…"
Zevran twisted his free arm behind him, locking his elbow with Alistair's. Then with a quick kick out of his leg, he knocked out Alistair's knee that was holding the majority of the warrior's weight. The combined effort sent the warrior off balance, allowing Zevran to twist his body and roll over, taking Alistair with him. With Alistair now on his back with Zevran on top of him, the elf snapped his head back into Alistair's nose, breaking it.
"Maker's balls!" Alistair exclaimed, pain shooting through his face as blood began to rush out of his now broken nose.
With eyes clouded by tears, he tried rolling to his side in an effort to repin Zevran under him. Yet the elf was too quick, leaping to his feet and away from the Templar's grasp. Zevran then grabbed hold of Alistair's wrist and pulled the other man fully onto his stomach.
"You know, if you are going to disable your opponent, you should learn to never-" Zevran kicked his foot straight into Alistair's elbow, breaking the joint.
"Aahh!" Alistair screamed out, his voice nearly as loud as the break had been.
"Never leave them with the ability-" Zevran reached for Alistair's other arm, instead choosing to yank the limb backwards, pulling the joint from it's socket at the shoulder. "To fight back, or to get free."
"By the Void!" Alistair screamed again, his body trying to twist itself around.
Zevran then sat down by Alistair's legs, trapping one of them in a tight leg hold. "Tell me, Alistair… Did your nightmares include what the Darkspawn did to those who were captured?" Zevran took hold of Alistair's left foot, pulling the boot from it then tossing it aside. "What they did to the women? How they create more? Because you see, I know what happens." Zevran grasped the warrior's foot and twisted, snapping the ankle bone and shin in several places. Again Alistair screamed, yet Zevran just removed Alistair's other boot and tossed it with the other one. "Because I gave that horror to Riel. Not willingly, mind you. The dreams she suffered…. I caused it so she would not be able to wake from them. So they continued to torture her, showing her every horror known to history." Another snap and more screaming. "I know her nightmares, because she told me. Sobbing in my arms as I held her." Zevran stood, releasing Alistair's now useless limbs. "And that is the true difference between you and I, Alistair. You take glory in sharing her misery. Her pain. Her suffering." Zevran was seething as he spoke, remembering every tear Riel shed as he held her. How she trembled in his arms as she recounted everything she could from the nightmares that still continued to haunt her every time they camped deep underground. With his foot, Zevran pushed the Templar over to his back, then he crouched down close to Alistair's head and stared into his eyes. "You would seek kinship through the evil that is slowly killing her. Whereas I plan to cure her of it."
"I-Impossible…" Alistair stammered, pain shooting through his body even as he glared at the elf above him.
"Perhaps," Zevran replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "However, I have never been one to deny a challenge. Especially one with so worthy of a reward." Zevran chuckled softly to himself, taking the time to wipe a line of blood from his chin. "Make no mistake, my friend. Whatever you think of me, or what you think of my relationship with the lady Warden - none of that matters. I will see Riel free from this curse that was forced upon her. Even if I have to battle the very Maker to do so."
"Y-you are in-sane…"
Zevran laughed, his voice echoing around the small clearing they were in. "Of course! I am in love! And that, my dear Templar, is the lesson that I shall leave you with today. Whatever I was in Antiva; whatever I was before meeting Riel - a killer, a thief, a deadly assassin - I am so much more dangerous now. Before, I was but a man. A weapon crafted and honed to deadly proportions. Now, I am a man in love with a woman. And I will never hesitate to use what I learned in my previous life to fight for, defend, and save the woman whom I love."
Zevran then stood up, a small groan leaving his lips as the aches in body still clawed at his insides. Yet satisfaction bloomed in his chest, knowing that the fool was in far worse shape than he was. With a sigh, Zevran looked down at Alistair, watching with a disconnected feeling of minor interest as the warrior struggled to control his broken limbs and attempt to stand.
"Do not worry, for I am not so heartless to you leave you out here as you are. As much as you may deserve such. I will send Wynne to you when I return to the camp. With her healing, you should be able to fight again in another day or so. Just as I promised you would be."
"I hate you!" Alistair seethed from the ground below.
"I would expect nothing less, my friend. However, there is but one thing that I wish for you think on from this point on. For every single tear you cause our lady Warden to shed, I will break another one of your bones. Sound fair? Good," Zevran replied, grinning. "Now, I will see you back at camp, my Templar friend. After I fully ravish Riel of course, bringing her to heights of ecstasy and pleasure that you could only dream of. Perhaps you will be back in time to hear her calling out my name as she climaxes. One can hope, no?"
Zevran then walked away, heading in the direction back to camp. A deep laugh escaping his lips as he walked, leaving the broken and bruised Templar behind.
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Vhenan'ara