SPOILER ALERT! This story follows the tale of Camille Aeducan following Zevran to Antiva, post-Awakening.
Camille awoke to the feeling of cuddling up against something warm and soft, but it was not the body of the elven assassin she had gone to bed with the night before. It was a pillow in his place. Camille's eyes shot open and she sat up only to regret the sudden movement. Camille cursed last night's decision to attempt to drink Oghren under the table and fell backwards onto the mattress. She had allowed herself to get caught up in the celebrations of yesterday and she would pay for it today.
"Ow," the dwarf moaned, as her headache increased by the second. She let her head fall to the side, the same side where she had expected to see Zevran sleeping. After a few more moments of suffering, Camille pulled herself together and sat up again.
Through the cracks of the velvet curtains Camille could see sunlight, so she knew it was morning. Zevran was always an early riser, perhaps he had pulled on his clothing and slipped off to some other corner of the castle. He could be in courtyard practicing his aim or might be found in the armory sharpening his blades. Maybe he was in the kitchens helping himself to breakfast. Camille got dressed and went off to find him, but the first hour of searching was fruitless. Camille wandered into the Library and ran into Alistair.
Alistair, King Alistair thanks to herself, was still cross with her over the decision to allow Loghain into the Grey Wardens. For that reason every word her former friend spoke to her was dripping with disdain. At first Camille had taken it in stride but the man was beginning to wear her patience.
"Looking for the assassin are we?" Alistair asked, not even bothering to look up from his book. Camille glanced at the cover and saw that it was the same book on Ferelden history Alistair had been reading for the past week.
"Do you know where he is?" Camille responded, struggling to maintain a courteous tone. She did not like the way that Alistair's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. He was about to tell her something bad and was relishing in the fact.
"I'm afraid you're a few hours too late. Zevran left this morning, without a word," at this Alistair looked up and shut his leather bound book, "He had a rucksack full of things and his bedroll. I assume he'll be gone for quite some time."
"Did he say where he was going?" Camille asked impatiently. She was crossed her arms, but held back the urge to tap her foot.
"Without a word." Alistair repeated, standing up from his seat.
Camille stared up at Alistair and let her arms fall on her hips, but said nothing. An uncomfortable silence lingered between the two until finally Alistair broke it with a question.
"Did you double cross him too?"
"What?" Camille raised an eyebrow.
"I mean since that seems to be your thing, betraying the people who care about you."
"Oh get over yourself, Alistair. You are such a child!" Camille snapped and she turned heel and headed for the door.
"That's no way to speak to your King!" Alistair called after her. Camille did not have to look back to know that he was smiling now; making her miserable was his favorite pass time these days.
Five days after the disappearance of Zevran and Sten was the second member of her troop to chose to leave. The stoic giant was followed by Shale, and then Leliana in the days that followed. Before she knew it, a month had passed and in that time Camille had come to realize that Zevran might not return.
"Why are you still here?" Asked Alistair over breakfast one morning. Despite his rudeness in private, this was the first rude thing he had said in public about the Hero of Ferelden.
"You'll be pleased to know that I've been summoned to appear in Amaranthine. The Orlesian Gray Wardens are already settling in. They've sent a scout-"
"Oh so you will be leaving! Fantastic!" Alistair interrupted and then took a bite of his toast with jam.
Camille thought to throw her apple at his head, but in the presence of the servants felt it best not to undermine the new king.
"Even if he is only here for his seed," thought Camille out loud, though no one else at the breakfast table seemed to hear her.
Four months later, following the deaths of both the Mother and the Architect, Camille found that life at Vigil's Keep was quickly losing its excitement. In the first week following this adventure, Sigrun had been the first to slip away back to her old line of work. The dwarf, with whom Camille had felt a kinship with, was quickly followed by Justice and then Anders. Both Nathaniel and Velanna had chosen to stay but Camille was not on speaking terms with either. Even if they never discussed it, the two were both sore about her decision of killing the Architect.
Were it not for Oghren, Camille would have been alone, but even the presence of her good friend was not enough to quell the feeling of lost she felt. After losing her home in Orzammar, Camille had taken to thinking of her companions as family members and wherever they slept was home. But as soon as the Blight had ended everyone else had gone their own way. With the Wardens slipping away from her now Camille wondered if she would ever have a place to call her home again.
"You're still thinking about that elf, ain't yuh?" Oghren began one evening. The pair of dwarves were sitting in the otherwise empty dining hall. Two empty pitchers sat on the table between them, but there was a third that was still half way full.
"I don't want to discuss him," Camille said with a sigh. She grabbed the pitcher and started to refill her own mug, but then shrugged and began drinking straight from the source.
"Aw, I don't see why you let that frilly little nug licker get to ya any how!" Oghren snorted before continuing, "You sure you're the daughter of Kelda of the House of Omar?"
It had been so long since Camille had heard her mother's name. She glanced up at Oghren and shrugged again. Her mother had died giving birth to Bhelen and Camille had been just a small child then. She never had the chance to really get to know the woman.
"Well the Kelda I've heard of would have stormed off after her man and dragged him back to Ferelden by the ol' trouser snake!" Oghren chuckled at the thought and downed the contents of his mug. When Oghren noticed the look of confusion on Camille's face he continued.
"Oh! Don't tell me no one told you the story of how your parents got married?" Roared Oghren.
"Enlighten me," Camille replied after another swig from the pitcher.
"Well now, the King and your mother had been doin' the whole courtin' thing for a while and everyone figured they'd get hitched. But then your father went off into the Deep Roads for awhile but before he went he was sitting in the Tavern telling everyone who'd listen that he wasn't sure about marrying Kelda. He wasn't sure if she was good enough and all that crap.
"So your mother--what a dwarf!--hunts the King down in the Deep Roads of all places and when she finds him you know what she does?"
Camille shook her head and waited for Oghren to stop laughing and finish the story.
"Your mother she--hick--goes up to the King and--hick--punches him right in the kisser!"
"That's not true!" Camille laughed in spite of herself.
"It is too! A fiery woman, your mother. She took the whole thing as an insult and demanded satisfaction. She told 'em she would cut his throat right then and there if he would not have her as his wife! The King was so impressed that marrying her was the first thing he did when he got back to Ozammar!"
Oghren slammed his mug down before adding, "Well either impressed or scared shitless!"
Camille shook her head but allowed herself to get caught up in the hilarity of the thought. She spent the rest of the evening laughing and joking, the first time she had let herself go in the last five months. But when she returned to her lonely suite she found her smile fading.
She quickly undressed, the various parts of her armor making a trail towards her bed. She let herself fall backwards onto the bed and stared up at the deep blue canopy.
"Mother, I have shamed you," Camille muttered and she wrapped her arms around herself. She was always overly dramatic when she got drunk, or so Gorim had told her once or twice before, "I cannot hold onto a man to save my life!"
A bitter laugh escaped her lips and she rolled over on her side. She felt the other side of the bed, the cotton sheets felt cold against her fingertips. How she longed for the warmth of another person on that side.
Zevran.
Camille rolled over again to face her nightstand. She groped for the little trinket that reminded her of him. Camille had stopped wearing it the first night she arrived at Vigil's Keep, but it had never left her bedside table since. She could barely make out the gemmed earring in the dim candle light but she grasped it in her hand and squeezed it hard. If she ever saw Zevran again she would throw the earring in his face, Camille decided then and there...
The next day, when Camille sat down to lunch with the rest of the Wardens, she had an announcement to make.
"I'm stepping down as Commander for a while. I've got some unfinished business in Antiva."
A/N: Read? Review? It feels weird putting myself out there like this (creatively) but I wrote it so why not?