Our lives are made,
In these small hours,
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate.
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

-These Small Hours by Rob Thomas

Alena woke in the late hours of the night, or rather the early hours of the morning, seeing as the activities of the night had come to a close. Activities that involved her Antivan lover, who lay next to her in a deep sleep, chest rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm. She very carefully removed herself from his loose hold, which causes him to roll slightly onto his back, facing to his right, away from her. She smiled as his chest rumbled in a small show of protest, but nothing else followed as he settled back in. Alena lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, chin on her hands, watching him sleep. The devil was rather placid when he didn't smirk or speak. She took this chance to really look him over.

She started with his ears, sharp and pointed, marking him as being the elf he was. She pondered what the keeper would've thought of Zevran, had she met him on other terms other than in her travels. She also thought of what Tamlen would've thought, seeing that he was her first love. If he hadn't been claimed by the darkspawn taint, she may never have been the warrior of lore she was now, and would've most likely married Tamlen and snorted at Zevran's lifestyle. Oh how life had turned hers upside-down.

She left his ears to take in his wheat colored hair and slightly darker skin tone, kissed by the sun that Zevran said was always present in Antiva. He spoke little of Antiva, saying that it made him wistful for prostitutes, leather and a good meal. He always held a certain craving in his eyes when talked of his homeland, as she was sure she showed it too when she was reminded of her clan. Also spread across the left side of his temple were the curious markings he would never explain. Alena secretly loved those markings. They were so strong and bold, while hers were dark but delicate, the small tree branches stretching across her forehead and down her temples to her jawline. She also secretly wished he'd invite her to Antiva after all this was over. Seeing him in his own element was enticing to her, and she wished to meet the Dalish that traveled there, compare them to her own clan. Maybe she just wanted to see the world that had been opened to her since becoming tainted, but the idea of being with Zevran, traveling together seemed to be a comforting thought.

Her eyes continued their study, passing by his talented and sharp-witted mouth, down his jawline and corded neck to his collarbone and chest. Here she lingered, eyes dancing amongst the scars littered across his skin, each carrying a tale. Alena remembered her first night spent with Zevran, she spent much time tracing those scars as Zevran told her stories of merchants, princes, thieves and mages. As exaggerated as his stories seemed to be, she believed them, every one of them. He had nothing to hide, so she saw no reason to not trust him. Her companions seemed to not see things the same way as she did, but then again they all came from different walks of life, so she did not judge their source of judgment. To her, the only judgment that mattered was ones own.

Her final exhibition of his body was the single hand that rested over his abdomen. The ultimate piece of work, they covered every aspect of him, from his skill at killing to his talent of love making. Soft and hardened, gentle and strong. She admired his hands. In fact, after staring at the one on his chest for a couple moments, she reached out and ran a single finger from the back of his hand down his forearm. Unexpectedly, the small touch also roused one eyelid to open slightly, the amber iris beneath it staring at her questionably. Alena quickly blushed, retracting her hand back to her, sitting back a bit.

"I'm sorry, Zev. I didn't mean to wake you," Alena said, a small bit of guilt in her eyes. Zevran merely stretched and rolled on his side to face her, running a free hand through his hair.

"And what are you doing awake, my dear? It is quite early. Perhaps I did not sate you enough?" Zevran teased, now running his free hand up her exposed side to her shoulder, making her shiver.

"No, Zevran, I was quite taken care of," Alena said, blush not disappearing. "I simply could not sleep, so I was watching you."

"Watching me? Mi amora, I did not know you were such a voyeur," Zevran smirked while Alena broke eye contact, proceeding to play with a strand of her loose mahogany hair. He then shifted closer, wrapping his arm around her back and slipping his hand beneath her side, convincing her to come closer. Alena moved towards him, positioning her back against his chest, allowing his possessive hand to trace invisible lines across her ribs and beneath her breasts, every so often wandering up to her nipples and collarbone. Alena hummed at the new-found attention.

"I prefer to stay awake and think than face the nightmares," Alena admitted. Zevran knew all too well what she dealt with at night. Many times he had been awoken to her screaming or sobbing in her sleep and would comfort her until she fell back asleep. Between the Archdemon calling to her and having visions of her dead comrade Tamlen, her mind could be quite creative in torturing her. "Besides," she brought him back to her, "I like being awake at this time, it is quiet and peaceful. It's in these small hours I can really reflect on things I don't have the chance to think about normally," Alena smiled.

"Oh? And what don't you get to think about so often?" Zevran asked. Alena turned her head to the side, to look into his eyes. Curiosity piqued in those topaz depths, and she giggled, leaning up and kissing him playfully.

"How I can keep you under my thumb," Alena joked, earning her a nip at one of her elegant ears. "Don't worry yourself with my late night contemplations, Zev. I'm alright," Alena finished, as she kissed him lazily again, then settled in for the rest of the night. Zevran smiled lightly, sweeping Alena's hair away from her face and behind her ear so he could kiss her temple. He then lay back down, tightening his grip around her waist and burying his nose in the back of her neck, taking in her scent. Just as he was drifting back into his dreams, he heard her call his name.

"Hmm?" Zevran replied sleepily.

"If we make it through this, would you take me to Antiva? Your stories always make me curious," Alena whispered, almost unheard. Zevran pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

"Of course, mi amora. But sleep now, my dear. We have another long day coming to us," Zevran said, half asleep. And Alena slept, instead of being tormented with dark visions, dreamed of beautiful green lands beyond the sea, where she wandered enchanted streets filled with merchants, thieves, mages and a sun-kissed elven Crow.