Zevran shifted uncomfortably. The rain had cleared up a while ago but his clothes still held in the damp close to his skin. He hadn't the time to stop and change, not if he wanted to be in Denerim before nightfall. He had promised Teluvera that he would be in town today, but it seemed the gods or the universe or fate had decided to make that promise nearly impossible to fulfill.

His horse snorted and Zevran jumped. Great, and now he was falling asleep. He looked up to the road ahead, frowning at the puddles that only served to remind him how wet he was. When was the last time he had seen Ferelden? He'd been in Antiva so long that pine trees looked foreign to him. Everything here was so much darker, more muted. Where Antiva was bright with sunshine year round, it's cities full of life and color, Ferelden felt like a lonely mud puddle.

Teluvera had said she would move back to Antiva with him, if he ever wanted to. She had certainly heard enough of his stories over the years to have some idea of what it looked like in his home country. But he couldn't ask her to do that, not with her work and her friends still living here.

The dirt road slowly turned to cobble as Zevran neared Denerim. He could just barely begin to make out the city's walls and spires over the horizon, even with the sun just about disappeared. His hands curled tighter around the reins. Why was he so nervous? If anything he should be excited at the prospect of seeing everyone again, especially Teluvera. Yet still Zevran found his heart pounding in his chest, filling his ears with the sound of his apprehension.

Zevran reached back to his saddle bags, putting hand in and sighing once his fingers found the bound collection of Teluvera's letters to him. He had neglected to write back most times and the sheer number of letters she had sent him compared to those he had sent back made his chest ache.

"Hail!" A guard poised on the road waved his hand.

Zevran found was a comfort to see the familiar sigil of the Kingdom of Ferelden on his armor. "Yes?"

"State your business."

"I need to speak with the Wardens," Zevran replied smoothly. He flashed the guard a smile. "I'm running a bit late."

The guard hummed. "Do you have any documents stating such?"

Zevran grabbed ahold of the letters, flipping them so that the return address was clearly visible. Warden of the Grey was written unmistakably in the corner. "Does this satisfy?"

"Ah, yes." The guard nodded, stepping back and giving Zevran's horse a pat on the rump. "Be, uh, be sure to give the Warden-Commander my well wishes."

"Of course," Zevran replied. He chuckled softly to himself, placing the letters back into his bag and urging his horse forward.

Alistair must have set up checkpoints since Zevran had last been in the country. It was smart, if a bit troublesome, but considering all that had transpired over the past year, it was no surprise he wanted to be more cautious.

The sun had completely disappeared by the time Zevran made it into Denerim. The city square was near empty, with a few stray shopkeeps staying late to finish cleaning their stalls. The guards had started their rounds, lighting torches on their way. The rain must have missed the city entirely, as there wasn't a single drop of water anywhere.

Zevran turned towards the elven district, where the alienage used to be. Teluvera had made it clear to both Edwinna and Alistair that the alienage would be one of the first things to go during the reconstruction of the city. Even if she had to take charge herself, she wanted that area purged and redone as a new district.

The gates that had normally stood to keep elves and humans separate had been completely removed and instead replaced with a decorative archway, wrapped about with a flowering vine. The dirt paths had been paved so that they matched the rest of Denerim's cobblestone roads. It seemed almost fortunate that a majority of home had been destroyed in the Archdemon's attack, as the newer ones were nearly indistinguishable from the human homes outside.

Zevran had left when construction was still in progress, but he smiled thinking of just how much this looked like Teluvera's image for it.

He drew his horse towards the small white cabin just inside the gate, dismounting and slowly tying his horse's reins around the porch's railing. Turning, Zevran realized that this place had the perfect view of the vhenadahl. Though it had never meant much to Zevran, he found it fitting that Teluvera would put her home in the best place to view the tree in all its glory. Too, was it fitting that it would be one of the few things that survived the Blight.

Zevran gave his horse a final pat before he wandered up towards the door. He took the steps one at a time before he stopped at the threshold, his hand poised to knock but still unmoving. Was she even home? With a deep breath, Zevran knocked on the door.

There were sounds of movement inside, sounds that set Zevran's stomach into twists. He had promised he'd come today, not in the late evening. What if he had woken her up? What if she- Zevran closed his eyes and forced a breath out through his lips. It was fine. Everything was fine.

The front door opened and the light from the fireplace spilled out onto the porch.

Zevran found himself holding his breath. She looked just like she had when he had left. Her hair was let down, laying in messy curls at her shoulders. Her tired eyes were half lidded, but quickly widened as she realized who was standing at the door. Her voice rang out into the air and Zevran was soon wrapped in an embrace.

"Zevran!"

Any chance to respond was silenced with a flutter of kisses on his face. Zevran let his arms rest gently on her hips, placing kisses of his own on her neck. He kept his face there for a moment, letting the smell of her return to him. It had been far too long since he had been like this. The loneliness he had felt in Antiva seemed all the more desolate standing here with her. He breathed in again before speaking, not wanting to break the moment. "Yes, it is me. Were you expecting someone else?"

"Oh, shut up!" Teluvera drew back, letting her face stop inches from his. "I thought you weren't going to make it."

Zevran scoffed and smiled, forcing his thundering heart to slow. "Have you ever known me to break a promise?" He paused. "On second thought-"

"Get in here," Teluvera chuckled, grabbing his arm and pulling him in through the doorway. She closed the front door and then returned to place another kiss on Zevran's lips.

Gods, she was warm. Zevran tried to resist the urge to pull her into another embrace, but found his willpower had been sapped by the rain. He closed the distance between them, starting with a kiss and then moved to rest his head on her shoulder. He'd had so many dreams of returning home that he worried he might wake, find himself back in his bed in Antiva again, staring at the piles of unanswered letters on his desk.

But here he stayed.

"Why are you wet?" Teluvera suddenly asked.

"Rain has a tendency to wet all it touches, my dear."

Teluvera frowned, but her eyes stayed bright. "Seems not a lot has changed."

Zevran's eyes danced over Teluvera's face. "I could say the same to you."

There was a beat of silence before Teluvera turned, pushing a few plates aside on her dining table to make room for Zevran to sit. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," Zevran replied. He moved to take a seat at one of the chairs, but instead picked Teluvera up and sat her on the spot she had just cleared. He put his face against her chest, hearing her own heart rapidly fluttering. "You missed me?"

"Is that even a question?" Teluvera put her hands on Zevran's shoulders to push him back, maneuvering him so she could see his face. She let her hands move up, cupping his cheeks. "I figured the letters would have answered that."

A knot in Zevran's gut suddenly tightened and he fought to keep his smile on his face. He leaned into one of Teluvera's hands and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I did not reply as much as I should have."

"You were busy, I understand."

"I should never be too busy for you, my love." Zevran opened his eyes again. He took in every inch of her face. Her small nose, her brilliant eyes, her soft cheeks and supple skin. Even as long as it had been, he could not believe how lucky he was, to have found someone like her to love someone like him.

"Lucky?"

Zevran hadn't realized he'd been speaking aloud. "What?"

"You're not lucky, Zevran." Teluvera paused, letting her thumb stroke again Zevran's cheek. "You aren't deserving of less than this. You didn't somehow escape a worse fate, I don't know how many times I should have to tell you this."

"Of course," Zevran said. He pushed forward, letting his face press into Teluvera's neck again. He knew what she meant and there was a chance she was right. He willed himself to believe her, to see in him what she saw.

Teluvera laid back against the table, letting Zevran fall atop her.

"Is your bed not comfortable enough?" Zevran laughed. He pulled himself up so that he was crouched over her, letting his hair fall about his face. "You would instead choose the table?"

"This was your choice," Teluvera replied. She put her hands on Zevran's chest and moved him so that he was laid next to her.

Zevran complied, adjusting to fit more comfortably on the hard dining table and then let his head rest on Teluvera's chest. Her heart beat with the same ferocity his was, sounding like it wanted to leap from her chest. He felt Teluvera's hands in his hair and his mind wandered back to their time on the road, during the Blight. The first night she had spent in his tent, the first night they had spent together. Feeling her warmth next to him was more than Zevran could have ever wanted. "I missed you."

"I know." Teluvera let her hand move so that it was against his back, drawing circles. "I could always come with you, you know."

"You have a place here."

"And so do you."

Zevran hummed again, letting his eyes close. He breathed in time with the rise and fall of Teluvera's chest, hearing her heart slow to into a steady rhythm. He moved so that his hand was on her stomach, mimicking the circles she was drawing on his back. A bed would be leagues more comfortable than a table, and dry clothes would be leagues more comfortable than his still damp ones, but here in this place, with Teluvera, he felt safe. There were so few places that afforded him the comfort of being able to close his eyes knowing that he would wake again with someone by his side.

He'd always been told that the safest place was to be alone, but Teluvera had made it clear that simply wasn't the case.

Suddenly, there was a loud creak and before Zevran could rouse himself, he felt the dining room table crack and then he and Teluvera were on the floor. His back hit hard and he groaned, turning to see where Teluvera was.

She was still with him, but her mouth was opened in a loud laugh. She pulled herself to sit up, still chuckling. "What are the chances?"

Zevran sat himself up and rubbed at his arm. Listening to Teluvera's barely contained giggles, he found himself laughing, too. "How old was that table?"

"It's my dad's," Teluvera answered. "Or was."

Zevran chuckled. "I assume we should not tell him how it ended up that way?"

"Definitely not." Teluvera pulled herself up so she was standing again. "I can clean that up in the morning. Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes and into bed."

"Bed sounds wonderful."

"Into bed to sleep, Zevran!"

Zevran flashed Teluvera a smile and then rose to his feet, brushing off his clothes. He watched Teluvera flit about the room, gathering him clothes and pulling back the blankets on the bed. Zevran sighed, content to take in all of Teluvera that he could. He was happy. He was safe.

He was home.