I've tried to distinguish the difference between past memories and current thoughts using the rulers, but I know it isn't the clearest of methods. Need more practice with this formatting lark me thinks!
I might go one and create scenes for all the characters after the revelations at the Gauntlet. I was a little disappointed that in game new dialogue options weren't given after that section was completed, would have been a nice way for the characters to get to know each other a bit better.
Zevran is OOC here, I always wanted him to be sappier rather than just plain crude. Anyway, hope you like!
Elissa Cousland rocked on her heels infront of the fire, watching her companions as they settled in for the night. Morrigan; over on her own as always, fiddling with various bottles and vials that contained goodness knows what. Alistair sat on his own also tonight. Lost in thought, he was unaware that he had been cleaning the same area of his shield repeatedly. The circular spot shone ridiculously out of a sea of gore encrusted metal.
Elissa's eyes flickered over to the other side of the camp. Leliana was keeping close to Wynne at the moment, the two women talking in hushed tones. Wynne occasionally reached out to stroke the rogue's face or arm, a soothing gesture, as Leliana twitched and wrung her hands nervously.
And Zevran.
The Antivan elf sat with his back propped up against his bed roll. He stared into the flames, a long blade of grass held loosely between his teeth that bobbed and weaved as he chewed on the end. A picture of calm.
Yeah, right.
The atmosphere in camp tonight was particularly tense, as all waited with baited breath for something to happen. Those who hadn't travelled to Andraste's resting place had retreated sensibly to the shadows, not asking questions. Hopefully their vigil would remain silent.
Things had changed. The gauntlet; it had exposed things. Secrets that the keepers had not intended to reveal. Wounds reopened that were supposed to be healed.
Certain things that had not been answered for, and needed to be finished.
"Zevran" she barked. She didn't look at the elf. The atmosphere shifted, and she heard Leliana hiss between her teeth. The world seemed to thicken slightly. She was vaguely aware that the attention of the Qunari had been attracted, and cursed under her breath. She would just have to hope that he chose to be a spectator, and not get involved.
Zevran's hooded gaze slipped to the warden.
"Warden" he responded. His tone was deadened, resigned even. He had known this was coming since he had uttered those fateful words in that chamber.
Yes, yes OK I regret it. Now move on
Elissa raised her head to look at him, trying to keep her gaze neutral. Warden?, well, maybe it really all did count for nothing. He had never addressed her so...bluntly before. The blank expression on his handsome face steeled her resolve. If he wanted to play dirty then that was fine by her.
"Who is she Zevran. What have you neglected to tell us?"
The elf's eyes narrowed in disdain.
"It is not of your concern my Grey Warden."
Elissa rose from her seat. Standing above the elf; her lover; she could convince herself that she actually had some modicum of control over the situation. She was furious at him. How dare he!
"So tell me, my dear, why did you become a grey warden?" he asked gently, dragging his fingertips lightly down the skin of her torso.
She hadn't wanted to. He had felt her stiffen under his touch, as he asked her to tell that which she had not told any of their companions. Even Alistair only knew the bare bones.
Her dark eyes had pleaded with him.
"Don't, please."
He had looked at her with eyes so full of concern and affection...
"I just want to understand why you are so sad sometimes, my dear. That is all".
She had asked him if he loved her that night. He hadn't responded in words. Simply took her hand, and pressed it over his bronze bare chest, splaying her fingers out over that which pulsed with his life force.
That had meant yes, she had thought.
And so, she had told him everything. How Howe's men had besieged her home, murdered her father and her mother. The sight of her dear innocent nephew, butchered into pieces on the floor. Her father's terrible, rasping voice as his blood had spilled all over the stone floor of the pantry. The look of sad resignation in her mother's eyes that haunted her dreams every night. How scared she had been. How she carried the guilt of fleeing with Duncan with her every day. How revenge consumed every fibre of her being. How she had lost everything that was dear to her.
But now, she had him.
Or not, as the case was turning out to be.
He had seen her cry. None of the others had seen her cry.
The anger that she had been holding back began to creep through Elissa, matching the taint of the darkspawn that already flowed in her veins. Memories flashed through her mind; gentle touches, whispers of encouragement. She remembered her ninth birthday. Father had bought her first pony. A tubby, white fluffy little thing it was, with a beautiful head and kind brown eyes. Minstrel she had called it. She had loved that pony, and her father, more than life itself on that day.
A tear trickled down her cheek. Despite herself, she pulled her sword from her scabbard.
Bloody cheeky nasty little jumped up son of a...how can he do this to me!
She heard the clang of metal hitting the ground, as Alistair leapt from his seat.
"Stay!" she bellowed, swinging her blade around to point it at the templar. Alistair froze to a halt, more under the strength of her stare than the threat of the weapon, and raised his hands in surrender. Magic started to sizzle in Morrigan's corner, and she heard Leliana notch an arrow.
"Back off, ALL OF YOU!" she commanded, her voice loud and strong, betraying nothing of the emotional turmoil she was currently in. The sizzling stopped.
"This is not your fight" she muttered under her breath.
Elissa turned back to the elf, who was now half standing, hands on the pommels of his daggers. His golden eyes flashed dangerously at her. How could he not see that he was not going to get away with this?
She took a deep breath.
"Your vow, Arainai. It means nothing if I cannot trust you. "
Zevran sighed a little in exasperation.
"Aren't we a little beyond this foolishness, Elissa" he said softly.
Elissa's gaze hardened to steel.
"No! Arainai we are NOT beyond this foolishness! How dare you think that you have the right to manipulate and commiserate to your own ends and yet not expect demands to be made when you fuck up!" she screeched.
Zevran visibly flinched at her onslaught. Yes, he knew had done her wrong. Yes, he had no right to betray her in this way. Yes, he owed her more than this, so so much more. But, he couldn't give it. He couldn't admit what he had done. Because, that would mean that she had become the most important thing in the world to him, and, that couldn't be. He couldn't need her, not yet. Not if there was a chance that she wouldn't get through this mess alive.
Maybe he should just be honest? Rush her, bundle her into the tent behind her, and tell everything. Admit all of it. Then at least if she died, she would know how he felt. She would know that he had meant everything that he had said and done. She would know that this wasn't a lie.
Zevran shook his head. No. He couldn't do that. It would weaken him too much...
He met his lover's eyes. The pain shone terribly within them; pain that he had caused. But, wasn't this what he did? He was a bringer of death after all. He caused pain. This was what he was.
"It is still, none of your concern, my Grey Warden". His voice was barely above a whisper.
Elissa sagged, as if he had run her through. The tears flowed freely now. Zevran still held her gaze, his eyes cold, blank. He would not weaken...
She took slow, steady strides towards him, sword lowered, but still gripped firmly in her hand. He watched her approach, fighting back every instinct to run or attack. Her expression was raw; she made no effort to conceal her torment now. What was the point? Maybe the others would leave her alone for a bit after this, expect less from her. No one wanted a weak and love sick leader after all.
She stopped very close to him, their shoulders nearly touching. Gently, she rested the side of her blade against his armoured hip. Any higher, and a swift movement would slice deep into his gut. Zevran trembled, but held firm.
Her free hand, she brought up to lightly rest on his shoulder, fingertips gently caressing wayward strands of his fair hair. He shivered under her touch, and tried to turn his body so that he could look at her. He froze, as he felt the sharpness of her blade dig a little further into his skin.
"You will not be here, where I return my love. Go back, go back to your Crows. Otherwise you will die a far more gruesome death before the week is out".
And with that, Elissa Cousland turned on her heel and disappeared into the dark of the forest.