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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
- 45
- 46
- 47
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:
Mi bella: Antivan. "My beauty." Endearment Zevran uses for Riel.
Mi diosa: Antivan. "My goddess."
Siempre, sólo tú y yo, mi diosa: Antivan. "Always, only you and I, my goddess."

Alistair opened his eyes to the feel of something cold being wiped along his face. Startled, he tried to move away, yet a soft feminine hand on his chest stopped him instantly.
"You shouldn't try to move yet," the soft voice said.
Maker save me…. Alistair groaned to himself as a pounding pain assaulted his senses, snapping his eyes shut before he could get a good look around. Everything hurt, yet the pain behind his eyes had to be the worst. With each breath, his head felt as if his skull was being split in two by a rusty wood axe. While being used as Chantry bell, during service. The ringing in his ears causing his stomach to roll and retch in time with the pounding behind his eyes.
And yet for his misery at the moment, a singular relief could be made out. A small humming sound, coming from the direction the voice had come from. Alistair tried to focus past his pain and onto the sweet sound of the humming, latching onto it for dear life as his body rebelled against its conscious state. A wordless tune, it somehow seemed familiar, yet his battered mind could barely stay awake, let alone try to delve into memories as to where he had heard such a lovely sound before. Whatever it was, the soft sound of gentle hum acted as if it were a healing tonic to his mind and body. Easing the misery behind Alistair's eyes and in his ears.
Alistair didn't know how long he laid there, losing himself to the peacefulness of the wordless song, while soft feminine hands wiped a cool cloth against his face and body. However long it was, it didn't seem nearly long enough when the humming suddenly stopped and barely audible whispers took its place. There was a shift of movement beside him, and a panicked fear lodged in Alistair's chest. Where it came from, he didn't know. Yet for some reason, at that moment he just couldn't bare to be left alone, bereft of the calming sound of the woman's voice.
Reaching out with his eyes remaining closed, Alistair found the soft skin of a woman's hand. "Please… Please don't leave me…" he choked out, fear darkening his words into a quiet desperate plea.
Alistair felt his hand being gently squeezed in response, followed by more whispers that he couldn't make out. There was another shift of movement, yet the hand holding his remained. Even with his eyes closed, Alistair could somehow tell that he and the woman were alone again. He wasn't sure exactly where he was, or truly much of anything at that moment. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want the woman beside him to leave. Her gentle touch and sweet voice were an anchor and soothing balm to the storm of pain and fog that clouded his mind.
"I shall stay as long as you need me to, Alistair," the woman said to him. Her voice was so familiar. Even while speaking, the tone holding the gentle lilt of song and music.
The panic that had clutched at Alistair's chest subsided as the woman settled in next to him. Her head found the small dip in his shoulder where his arm met his chest, while one of her arms stretched across his chest with her palm coming to rest over his heart. The scent of jasmine and wood oil breached his nose, sending a wave of comfort through him as the woman settled against him.
"Please, continue your song. It helps…" he whispered quietly, bringing his arm around the woman and gently holding her to next to him.
Alistair could feel the woman smile against his chest, the knowledge he brought a smile to this sweet creature adding a small swell of pride to his chest. The woman at his side then continued her wordless song, the soft sounds moving past the aches and pains that clawed at him. As if a thief in the night, her voice snuck past the misery that plagued his mind, and dug a deep trench of salvation inside of mind. A barrier of refuge that blocked out the ringing and pounding in his skull that threatened to send him off into a dark pit of despair.

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Leliana laid next to Alistair for hours, letting her voice soothe him beyond whatever magics Wynne had used on him. When she and the elder mage had first come across Alistair on the open area after his duel with Zevran, Leliana nearly collapsed in tears. All of his limbs had laid at twisted angles, with both blood and bruises covering his face and body. Immediately Wynne had set to healing him, however the two women had to work first in setting the bones back in place or else Wynne's magic would end up doing more harm than good as the bones healed wrong.
With tears in her eyes, Leliana and Wynne had to work together, one holding the ex-Templar down while the other pulled on the limb to set it straight. Even though he was barely conscious when they came across him, Alistair had screamed and howled as the women worked. At that moment, Leliana wished she could take every scream Alistair made and deliver it personally on the assassin who did this to him.
When she had agreed to the two men fighting their duel, at most Leliana thought there might be some broken ribs. Bruises and black eyes. Never did she think that they would go so far…. Yet when she saw how badly Zevran had looked when he returned…. Leliana knew she had underestimated the men's lethal response to each other. The amount of anger they possessed, worked out on each other as they fought wasn't something Leliana expected nor desired. And with each pained scream Alistair had made as she and Wynne righted his twisted limbs broke Leliana even more.
After he was finally able to be healed properly, Leliana had rushed back to camp to get one of the other men to help bring Alistair back. Even healed by magic, Alistair would be in no condition to walk after what was done. He probably wouldn't even be conscious. After all, magic could only do so much. The pains of the body could be healed to an extent, but more troubling would also be the damage done to Alistair's mind. The mind could only handle so much pain before it started to no longer function properly. It needed time to heal. Time that Leliana spent barely leaving his side.
They were in Alistair's tent now, sharing his bedroll as Leliana rested against him. Wynne had come in, checking on him and wondering if Leliana had needed anything. The old woman was forever kind like that, making sure everyone was well settled and had everything they needed. Yet when Leliana had turned to speak with her quietly, Alistair had reached out her, begging her to not leave him.
Perhaps he was dreaming as he spoke. Perhaps he wouldn't remember this when he woke up. Maker knows that he barely noticed her presence most times. Even when she brought him soups and teas while he trained off by himself at night. The male Grey Warden would sometimes offer a word of thanks as she left him provisions. Other times he would either snap angrily, ranting either about Zevran or Riel's 'blind acceptance' of him. Other times he would ignore Leliana completely. Remaining silent as he trained with his sword and shield, moving through the motions of shadow combat against foe only he could see.
Leliana didn't know what was worse - the rantings or the quiet silence. The best times were when he would smile at her, thanking her for thinking of him. A small dimple becoming visible in his right cheek as he beamed at her. However, those times were rarer. And getting moreso, as time went on. More frequently now, he would remain silent, seemingly oblivious to her and what she had brought him. Yet each night when he returned, he would bring the empty dishes back with him. Sometimes with a simple nod of thanks to her as he ducked into his tent for the evening. And even that small bit of acknowledgement was only given if Leliana managed to somehow catch his eye before he disappeared behind the fabric of the tent he used.
However now…. Now none of that mattered. Now, she was lying next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow as he gently held her in return. As much as she hatred Zevran for what he did, it did give her this moment. Leliana wasn't naive enough to think that it would change anything between the Grey Warden and her. Come morning, he would still pine for the woman who didn't love him. And she would go back to wishing for a man who would barely notice her, let alone love her in return.
While Leliana was jealous of the affections that Alistair gave to their leader, she didn't hate the woman for what she had no control over. Riel had never led Alistair on, promising affections yet never giving them. The female Warden had actually been fairly upfront with her disinterest in her fellow Warden. Riel loved Zevran, and there was no mistaking that. Even in the beginning, it was easy to tell the two elves had feelings for each other. So Leliana couldn't begrudge the woman for Alistair's blind devotion to her. Even if she sometimes wanted to smack Alistair silly for it.
And so even as Leliana's heart swelled and she reveled in the closeness she now shared with Alistair, she knew that it wouldn't last. She would just enjoy it now, drinking up as much of his affections as she could. The song she hummed softly to him a poignant ballad of forbidden lovers, never to unite as fate and time drifted them apart.
A fitting tale, Leliana mused, thinking of the lonely future ahead of her.

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The trill of birdsong roused Alistair from his sleep, fading memories of a dream resting just outside of his grasp as he peeked open his eyes. The painful pounding that had awoken him earlier was curiously absent, causing Alistair to try moving his head, bracing himself in case of its sharp return. Yet even when he managed to pull himself upright, there was no pounding or ringing to be felt in the slightest. In fact, he felt pretty good. Strange considering how badly things had gone the day before.
Alistair didn't remember much of what happened after the fight with the assassin. Vague memories of more pain, hands on him, holding him down as it felt like he was tortured. Then the calming relief of magic healing him. And judging from how well he healed, it had to have been Wynne's doing. No way Morrigan could have healed him so well, even if she had been so inclined. After that, all that Alistair remembered was waking to the feeling of his skull being chopped in half. At least, that's what it felt like at the time.
And through the blinding pain, the only thing he could make out was the music. A gentle humming that he must of have imagined or dreamed of from during his Chantry years. Many times over the years had Alistair sat within the Chantry walls, listening to the sisters sing the Chant of Light. Their beautiful voices reaching up to greet the Maker himself. Yet for some reason, the voice from his dreams seemed different.
Shaking his head, Alistair pushed the thought aside. There were duties that needed to be done, and it did no good to try and remember fevered dreams. As much as he dreaded going out and confronting his companions after what happened with Zevran, he couldn't very hide in his tent the entire time. Alistair consoled himself in knowing that he at least caused the damnable elf some pain in return. Maybe not enough in Alistair's opinion, but there was always hoping for a rematch. One that Alistair will definitely be more prepared for. That damn assassin may have won the last match, but next time Alistair will be more ready for his devious and sneaky tricks.
Alistair reached for his heavy armor, and caught the faint smell of jasmine and wood oil on his skin. "What in the…?" he quietly asked himself. Leaning his head down, Alistair took in a deeper whiff of his shoulder, definitely catching something different than own usual smell. A brief flash of memory came back to him then; the sound of a sweet wordless humming accompanied by a soft warmth next to him. "Weird…" Alistair remarked, shaking his head. Perhaps Wynne applied some healing oils to him? Although Morrigan was more the apothecary than the older mage was, Alistair seriously doubted that the witch would give two coppers about him unless Riel told her to.
Riel… he thought, remembering the assassins words from yesterday. 'How much of your interest in the Warden is because of your own selfishness?' the smiling elf had said to him. Of course his interest in Riel wasn't selfish! He genuinely cared for her, which is why he was trying to protect Riel from that assassin! Right? Right?
"Maker, guide me…" Alistair prayed briefly to himself, his head heavy in his hands. He then pulled on his armor, his fingers finding the latchings without thought through repeated experience. Alistair's mind instead kept being pulled back to his dreams, of all places. Usually when he awoke each day, Alistair's first thoughts were to Riel. Whether she was well and what her plans were for that day. However, today, his mind seemed intent on trying to grasp at the near forgotten strands of clouded dreams.
Stepping free from his tent, Alistair's eyes first went to the communal fire. It wasn't too early, yet it was still a surprise to see the redheaded Leliana tending to the flames already. Funny, she looked more tired than usual this morning. Her usual bright smile overshadowed by a look of weary lethargia. Yet when she lifted those impeccable green eyes to his, her features instantly brightened into a breathtaking smile.
Maker… Did she always smile like that? he thought to himself.
"Good morning Alistair. I didn't expect you up so early. I'll have some water boiling soon for tea," she stated warmly, the singing lilt of her voice biting at something from Alistair's memory.
"Thanks Leliana," Alistair replied, a shy smile on his lips. "Are you usually up this early?" Alistair cast a quick glance to the area where Shale usually stood, taking comfort in the stone golem's presence not too far off. He then eased himself down to the ground by the fire, opposite from Leliana.
"Usually," she replied with that soft smile of hers, making her look as if she knew more than she was letting on. "With Riel sleeping in now, I am usually the first one up when I am not already on watch. Sten is usually awake not long after me, followed by you and Wynne. Morrigan keeps her own schedule, so I never know whether she is awake or simply out in the wild. I usually hear Zevran awake long before he comes out, though. Followed by Riel. The last to show himself is our new dwarven friend," she explained with a soft giggle.
"It's funny, I never really noticed you up before me."
"I am sure you have just always had things on your mind," she replied, her smile darkening for a quick moment. "I am going to go fetch some fresh water for tea, and to boil for some morning grains," Leliana quickly stated, almost jumping to her feet and dashing off.
Alistair watched her go, his brow furrowed in thought. Why hadn't I ever noticed before? They had been travelling together for months now. Yet was this really the first time that he noticed it?
A movement to his side brought Alistair's attention back to the present. Looking over, he spied Riel leaving the tent that she shared with Zevran. Her face was flushed, and the skin of her neck and shoulders held the signs of a lover's attention. She was still wearing the men's tunic she was wearing yesterday as well, the fabric barely covering her shapely rear end. And with her long legs left bare, the sight left little to imagination.
Maker, was she beautiful. Even with the scar marring her cheek, Riel was something out of every man's dream. With long black hair flowing down her back, framing a face even Andraste would envy. And yet for all her beauty, Riel always carried herself as a warrior should. With long, sure strides, her stature demanding confidence and respect from all she met. She may haven been a good foot and half shorter than he was, yet when Riel set her mind on something, she seemed even larger and more imposing than even the giant Sten was.
Riel's eyes quickly scanned the area, moving first to the spots she knew the night's watch men to be. Then her silver gaze went to Morrigan's fire, before finally coming to rest on the fire the rest of the companions shared. At first her eyes showed surprise at seeing Alistair, but the look was quickly covered up with something else that he wasn't used to seeing from her. At least not directed at him. True sympathy and concern.
"Good. I wanted to speak with you," she stated, her voice missing a lot of the coldness it usually held when she spoke to him.
"You wanted to speak with me?" Alistair asked, incredulous. Usually he was the one who had to hunt Riel down if things needed to be discussed. Even when they were in Orzammar and he knew how badly she must have been feeling due to being so close to the underground horde. He was always the one to seek her out, whether it be for information on that day's travel plans, or who she intended to post as watchmen for the night.
Riel against checked around the campsite, her gaze double checking the places where their companions would be. She then sighed heavily, her hands coming together in front of her, fingers tangling together as she seemed to be debating something internally.
"So be it," she said quietly to herself before lifting her head and lancing Alistair with a hard stare. "Alistair, you need to stop," she stated firmly, her voice just as hard as the look she was giving him.
"Stop what?" he asked back, genuinely confused.
Riel rolled her eyes and sighed again. "Look, I know for some Voidforsaken reason you have this… thing… for me…" she finally said, her voice not has hard as before as her eyes went down to her hands.
Alistair coughed, suddenly just as uncomfortable as Riel looked. "Umm. Riel…-"
"No. You listen," she interrupted him, her eyes coming back to his. "I get that you think you have feelings for me. I also get that you don't trust Zevran. But I do. And it's not just because of how I feel for him, or how he feels for me. I trust him because of every time he has saved us. Every time he has risked his life for not just me, but for everyone else here. In the Deep Roads, he risked everything trying to find something to help me deal with the nightmares. Even risking his life to help Leliana. Without him, she would have died," Riel stated, swiping away the tears that began to build as she remembered what had happened. "Not just then either. He's saved all of us, multiple times. Even you. And no, that doesn't make him special. That's what we all do, every one of us. And that's the point. He is one of us. He may have joined us as an assassin, but he became one of us since then. As much a part of this group as Leliana, Wynne, Shale, or even Oghren. I trust him, Alistair. And that's why I need for you to stop this."
Riel moved over to the fire where Alistair was and sat down beside him. Looking at her now without her armor on or her hair done up for battle, she looked almost tiny next to him. Her small frame barely a third of his when he had his armor on as he did now. Yet for as small as she was, Alistair knew how large she could seem. The fury she kept locked inside of her, ready to unleash on anyone who threatened her. He even had first hand knowledge of her small size paid little heed to how hard she could hit when angry enough.
Yet for all the coldness and fury that she so regularly expressed, when Riel looked up at him now, her eyes were soft. Pleading. Almost compassionate as she held his gaze with her own.
"Alistair, you say you love me. But your love…. It's hurting me," she stated to him, her voice nearly cracking under the weight of the emotions she felt. "If you love me, you have to let it die. You have to let these feelings die. Or else I will. You can't love me, Alistair. Not in a way that will help. Not in way that I need. And if you keep trying to…." Riel lowered her head, her eyes going to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She knew tears fell down her cheeks, yet she made no move to wipe that away or hide them. Perhaps if he saw just how much she was hurting, it would help her words sink in. "You need to stop, Alistair. Care for me as a companion. As a you would a leader. As a fellow Grey Warden. Maybe even as a friend one day. But you have to stop loving me as a man would love a woman. You need to let this go." Riel finally lifted her eyes to meet his again, her tears shining brightly as they fell down her cheeks. "If you love me, let it die."
Alistair sat there, utterly speechless as she looked at him. Her gorgeous silver eyes were now filled with tears, spilling forth and falling down her cheeks to the ground below. In all the months he had known her, this was the first time she had ever shown him real vulnerability. The softer side of herself that she usually kept hidden behind layers of protection that kept even Leliana and Morrigan at a distance. This was the Riel that Alistair had always dreamed of seeing. The one that he had begged and prayed to the Maker to finally be allowed to witness, so he could finally comfort her the way he had always wanted.
Yet, that wasn't what she wanted of him, was it?
"Your words show that you have nothing but a selfish obsession with the Warden!
One that is based on your own needs!"
Alistair remembered back to the words that Zevran had spit at him the day before. How much of his actions towards Riel had been because of what he needed, or worse, assumed that she needed? What is more important? My own needs, or Riel's? What was it that she needed, then?
"Maker's breath…." Alistair sighed. "I have been a complete arse, haven't I?"
Riel burst out laughing, fully not expecting him to say that. "Yes. Yes you have," she admitted, still laughing.
Alistair had to admit that he liked seeing Riel laugh. The way her eyes sparkled and the lightness of her voice as she for once let a bit of her guard down. And Maker help him, she was even more beautiful when she did so. Yet he couldn't let that get in the way. Not anymore.
"I can't promise you that I will stop caring for you. Even beyond my own… Well damn, obsession with you… You've come to mean a lot to everyone in this group. However, I can at least try to bite my tongue more. As for him," Alistair nodded his head toward the tent that Riel shared with Zevran.
"The last thing he would ever do is turn me over to Loghain or anyone else," she quickly interrupted. "You? Maybe. But that's more your own doing than his," Riel added with a soft laugh.
"Fine. I guess I deserve that," Alistair lightly grumbled.
Pausing for a moment, he looked at Riel and for the first time really tried to see her as she was. Not as the woman he first met in Ostagar. Not the new recruit who he promised Duncan to watch over. To really see her as she was now, in that moment. Leliana was right, he realized. Riel was actually happy now. More than that, she was actually healing. From her past. From she endured. The assassin - Zevran - had taken a woman who held nothing but broken edges, and helped put the pieces back together.
And as much as Alistair wanted to hate him for it - and probably still would for a while yet to come - it was hard to ignore the evidence of it as she sat next to him right now, smiling and even laughing with him. He didn't do that. He didn't heal her, even though he had wanted to. And as much as it pained Alistair to admit to, perhaps he was never meant to. His role in this unbelievable woman's life wasn't what he had wanted. But perhaps, if he was careful, Alistair could find a role in her life that she needed him to be.
"Fighting companions then? Or dare I risk it and offer my friendship?" Alistair chuckled, sticking out his hand on reflex. "Oh Maker! Sorry!" he cursed, suddenly remembering her sensitivity. With a sheepish look, his face blushed as he pulled back his hand.
However Riel stopped him, placing her hand in his on her own. "Fighting companions. We'll work on the whole 'friends' thing…" she laughed as she shook his hand in her own.
"Good. That's… good," he replied with a shy smile. In that brief moment, it seemed as if a small connection was made between them. The twinkling beginning that could be eventually be actual friendship if allowed to flourish and cared for. For once Riel didn't look upon him with disdain or contempt, but she actually genuinely smiled at him. Almost as if she were happy sitting there with him.
"Oh, you're awake Riel!"
Riel abruptly pulled away from Alistair, her face flushing. "I-I didn't see you there, Lei," she stuttered, pushing the hair away from her face as she regarded her friend.
"I went to fetch some water for breakfast, and I decided to take a quick bath while there. I hope I am not interrupting anything," Leliana asked, her knowing glances shifting back and forth between Riel and Alistair.
"Nope. Not at all," Riel rushed out. Pushing herself up to standing, she smiled first at Alistair and then to Leliana. "I was just clearing up some… battle strategies…. with Alistair here. But I think I'm going to go see if Zevran is awake yet. I slipped away without waking him, and I don't want him to worry." Riel then ducked back inside of her own tent, leaving Alistair and Leliana alone.
In truth, Leliana had been waiting just out of sight, listening in to the conversation between the two Wardens. Eavesdropping was perhaps not the best quality to have, but when she saw the two of them sitting together, Leliana couldn't stop herself. Rarely did Riel ever speak with Alistair, and even rarer still without others nearby. And so soon after what happened between him and Zevran…
And the conversation shared between the two of them had been everything Leliana had been waiting for. Been begging the Maker for. A real conversation between the two them, where Riel finally told Alistair how she felt. Perhaps it wouldn't change anything. Perhaps Alistair would still pine for her as he always had done. At least now though, the words have been said. Now, there was hope. Not just for Riel, either. But maybe, for herself as well.
"You seem to be in a good mood, Alistair. Should I be worried?" Leliana teased as she poured some of the water she had gathered in a pot to boil.
Alistair chuckled. "Actually I think for the first time, we're doing pretty good."
"Good. Because after yesterday, I am not so keen on letting you and Zevran have any more duels…"
"You saw me after that, did you?" Alistair blushed, suddenly feeling awkward knowing that Leliana had witnessed him so beat up and broken.
"Mmhmm," Leliana answered, keeping her eyes away from his. "It was Wynne and I who found you. She and I spent a long time mending you."
"I figured Wynne, but I didn't know you did as well."
"Of course I did, Alistair. You needed help!" Leliana exclaimed, meeting his gaze briefly before going back to the bundle she had pulled out after setting the water. "You are important to me- I mean us. The group. Everyone here," Leliana stammered, her face flushing.
"Right…" he said cautiously, more than a little confused by her sudden unease.
"Well…" she cleared her throat, forcing her mind on the sticks and arrow heads in her lap. "We left Orzammar in such a hurry, I didn't much time to restock after the Deep Roads. It is a good thing that we are going to Redcliff before seeking out the Dalish. I am in need of some fresh wood oil for my arrows."
"That's right. You use it to coat the shafts with, don't you?"
"Mmhmm," she answered, still refusing to meet his eyes. "It makes the draw smoother. Although the jasmine I add just because I think it smells pretty. And it reminds me of my time Orlais. There, even a lady's arrows were scented to match her outfits. Or if it was her lover who used the bow, a lady would scent his arrows with her perfume. It was a subtle way of marking both the arrows and the archer as her own."
Jasmine and wood oil…. Alistair finally understood the strange scent he had caught when he awoke earlier.
"You know, I must have seen you and Riel tend to your arrows at least a dozen times, yet I still have no idea what the two of you do with them."
Leliana lifted her brilliant green eyes to his, a radiant smile on her lips. "You wish to see what I do? It really isn't that complicated. Just sorting out the shafts that are either too damaged or too dry to use further. And mending the ones that can be easily fixed."
Alistair stood up and walked over to where Leliana was sitting. "Would you mind showing me? I've always admired the way you use the bow. I don't think I have ever seen someone as accurate or as deadly as you are. Even among the Wardens, there were few archers. Most of us were sword men."
"Sit, Alistair," Leliana stated, patting the ground next to her. "Let me show you what I do. And perhaps you can share with me stories of your time in the Wardens. I am a bard, afterall. And we so do love our stories."
Alistair sat down next to her, keeping a small but respectful distance between them. "I… I think that I would like that," he said with a shy smile.

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"So, how badly must I hurt him again?"
Riel bit back a laugh as she entered the tent she shared with Zevran. He was awake and laying on his side, his head resting on his hand. Still completely naked, yet the warm blanket they used covered him from the waist down.
"He's fine, Zevran. No need to hurt him," Riel answered as she stretched herself out next to him. With open arms, Zevran welcomed her warm body next to his, pulling her tightly up against him.
"Hmm…. You say that, yet your eyes are clearly wet. You have been crying. Which means more of a lesson must be needed for that foolish Templar."
"Everything's fine, Zevran!" she exclaimed, nuzzling in against his chest. "I told him that he has to stop being an ass. And he agreed."
"We shall see, mi bella. It is one thing to say something. It is quite another to go about doing it."
"Just hold me, okay? Pretend that right now, it's just us? For just a little while?"
Zevran lowered his head and placed a few light kisses against Riel's neck, inhaling her delicious scent. In truth, he had awoken as soon as she had left his grasp, yet he allowed her her freedom. Within the camp, Riel was relatively safe. And Zevran was more than prepared to go out as naked as the Maker made him in order to protect her if need be. As much as he wanted to, to shadow her every move would go against the very freedom he wished to give her. And so he had waited, anxious and alert with his hands next to his blades while he listened in to the conversation she shared with the idiot Templar.
Zevran was in fact quite proud of her. Standing up to Alistair the way she did was something that he knew couldn't have been easy for her. And Riel had handled it beautifully, stunning him once more at ability to do and say what must be done no matter her own personal feelings. She really was amazing to him.
"How could I refuse such a request from mi diosa?" Zevran chuckled lightly. "As long as you wish it, I am here for you. Siempre, sólo tú y yo, mi diosa."

Inspiration for this chapter came from the song "Let it Die" by Starset.
https://youtu.be/Fk9WrVMCpOE
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Vhenan'ara