When he and Dog reached his Warden's cell, the sight which met him chilled even Zevran's blood. Bruises covered her arms and legs and bloomed across her left cheekbone and right jaw. Worse, there were traces of blood on her thigh. His beautiful Warden looked up at him blearily as if she were having trouble focusing, which was highly probable given the bruises on her face and the black eye which had swollen her left eye almost completely shut. Dog padded over to her and gently snuffled at her face and nudged her hand. She jumped slightly at the contact, but recovered enough to give Dog's ears a couple of gentle scratches. "I am here, mia cara. We can go now," Zevran gently urged.

She cringed at hearing a male voice, which broke Zevran's heart. After a moment she realized who it was. "Zev?"

"Yes, mi amore, I am here."

Zevran did not take her in his arms, although he wanted to do just that. He wanted to check her over himself to ascertain her injuries. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and assure her that she was safe, but he well knew that her ordeal was too fresh for her to be able to bear his touch. Dog also seemed aware of her fragile state as he made no sudden moves and kept quiet.

Zevran slowly extended one hand to help her up and repeated, "We can go now. We will go to Wynne and get you some help. You will feel much better then, no?"

Slowly, she took Zevran's hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. As soon as she stood, she pulled her fingers free of his. "I think that trunk by the door has my things in it." She moved a bit unsteadily, leaning on Dog for support, but made it safely to the trunk and began to pull on her clothing and armor. Occasionally, she gave a small gasp or muffled groan as clothing or armor rubbed or pulled at some injury. Her left arm seemed unwilling to cooperate fully. Zevran stepped forward carefully and helped her without touching her when her fingers seemed to falter or fumble.

They reached Arl Eamon's estate about an hour after the sun set. Wynne and the others were waiting in the entrance hall. Zevran and the Warden entered at an unsteady pace. Zevran hovered at his Warden's shoulder, but still did not touch her, and she still leaned on Dog for support. Wynne and Leliana came forward to take her to her room. Dog padded after them shooting a worried look back over his shoulder. Their exit left Zevran to answer the questions on everyone's lips as best he could.

"What in the Maker's name happened to her, Zev?" Alistair asked for all of them.

Zevran glanced at Sten, but it was obvious from the Qunari's face that he had a good idea what had happened to their Warden. Shale seemed to be waiting patiently, but Zevran thought he could detect a bit of anxiety in her stance. Oghren cursed creatively under his breath while occasionally drinking from the bottle in his hand.

"Let us move to the good Arl's study, and I will tell you what I know and what I fear." Shale and the men moved down the long central aisle of the estate, turning right into a short hallway at the end and settled in the Arl's study. Eamon took one look at their faces and sent a servant for a fresh bottle of brandy. Shale took up a stance next to the fireplace while the men found seats in the comfortable chairs and couches surrounding the fireplace. Once the servant had delivered brandy and glasses then disappeared, Eamon poured everyone a glass.

"As you can see, she was beaten rather badly, I'm afraid," Zevran began, "But there's worse. I believe that she was also raped."

Sten's face settled into stony anger. Shale shifted from one foot to the other with a sound closely resembling a distant avalanche issuing from her chest. Oghren downed the brandy in his hand and stopped cursing. Alistair's face went absolutely white, then flushed with rage. Eamon suddenly looked ten years older.

"We will have to see what Wynne can tell us when she is finished. I will tell you now, my friends, that she may not be able to tolerate the presence of a man for some time."

Alistair looked sharply at Zevran. "Not even yours?"

Zevran swallowed around a lump in his throat and rasped out, "Not even mine."

It was hours later when Wynne finally entered the study. The manor house slept in the silence of the wee morning hours. Eamon had been dozing gently, but immediately awoke when the others stirred. Wynne came to stand before the fireplace and looked around the semicircle of concerned faces. Although his mask was in place, she saw the pain in Zevran's eyes and knew what she had to say would do little to assuage it.

"Zevran, did you know?"

Zevran looked at her briefly before nodding once, "I suspected. I have seen that look on a woman's face before." He immediately raised a warning hand, "Not by my doing, I assure you."

Wynne looked away from the others and began to explain the Warden's injuries. "Her jaw and cheekbone were broken, and I have healed them. She also suffered certain...internal injuries..." she trailed off for a moment before continuing, "...which I have also healed. Leliana and I bathed her and applied healing poultices to the rest of her injuries. Her left shoulder has been badly wrenched, though not dislocated, so it is bound up. I have worked on it some, but it will need more work tomorrow. Tendons and joints can be very stubborn to heal as the tissue is tougher than skin or muscle." Wynne stopped and rubbed her forehead wearily. "I've done all I can for her tonight. I gave her a mild sleeping draught. I do not want her disturbed tonight."

As the others began to file out, Wynne caught Zevran's eye and indicated he should stay behind. Shale announced her intention to stand guard by the Warden's door, while the others left for their respective rooms.

After the others had left the study, Wynne collapsed wearily onto the nearest couch and closed her eyes. Zevran managed to pull together a few remnants of his patience and waited for her to speak.

"While Leliana and I were working on her, Zev, she called your name a few times. Her voice was very quiet, as if she were very far away. She was, in fact, on the edge of unconsciousness. I think that if you wish, you might sit with her for the rest of the night. I don't believe she'll awaken. If she does, she may be very agitated at seeing you there..." Wynne's voice trailed off.

Zevran met the elder mage's eyes, "I know what rape can do to a woman." His own anger bubbled to the surface, "It is a travesty of something which should bring only pleasure. No true man rapes, only cowards and bullies force themselves on others." He breathed deeply, in and out, regaining his calm.

Wynne looked him over approvingly, then said simply, "Go be with her."

Zevran went to his room and changed into a comfortable shirt and loose trousers with soft doeskin boots. He undid the braids in his hair and pulled it back into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. He then moved silently down the hall to his Warden's room, quietly opening the door. He closed it gently before turning to meet Leliana's worried, sympathetic eyes.

"I am so sorry, Zev. For both of you."

Zev acknowledged her words with a tiny nod, then indicated that Leliana could leave. "I will see you tomorrow, my lovely bard. I will watch over our Warden until she wakes."

Leliana gave him a quick hug, then left the room.

Zevran moved over to study his Warden. She was curled on her side in a fetal position with her right hand curved over the top of her head and her face tucked into the curve of her elbow. Her left arm was held closely to her chest. Her shoulder-length hair was free of its usual ponytail so that part of it splayed across the pillow and a few strands halfway hid her face. Dog lay curled around her back with his head resting above hers on the pillow. He cracked open one deep brown eye, then went back to sleep. Zev knew he would instantly waken should anything change in their Warden's condition.

The bruises Zevran could see on her face and arms made his fists clench. Her face was swollen, and angry reddish purple finger marks covered her arms. It was obvious more than one man was involved; they'd had to hold her down. He would give anything to know who had done this to her so that he could make the rapists pay. There were certain poisons which would ensure a painful, lingering death, and he thought them most suitable under these conditions. Lanthrax came to mind first, but there were others equally deadly and equally painful. Zevran opened his fists suddenly when he realized his nails were digging into the palms of his hands.

Zevran settled himself into the comfortable chair in the corner nearest his Warden's bed, propped his feet up on the padded footstool and prepared to wait.