Zevran couldn't believe it had been almost ten years. Ten years of such almost-stupid-blissful happiness sometimes he wondered if he hadn't really died that day on the side of the road that day. Some nights though, he'd wake, panicked, thinking her gone. Thinking her calling had finally claimed her and with her what was left of his heart and soul. Not a dawn came that he didn't give silent prayer to the Maker that she was still in her arms.

It wasn't always so, sometimes he'd wake without her there. The wardens calling her away more then sat comfortably with him and he could no longer follow her on every adventure. He, Zevran Arainai, had been given the position of Guildmaster after the previous one met an unfortunate end. Every master and recruit in Antiva City now looked to him. Only the Talons stood above him, and their numbers were thinned by his own hand. It was time consuming and required far more attention than he wished to give, not to mention the dangers of having so many below always looking for a way up and those above watching him.

He'd find himself clinging to her empty pillow, aching for her presence, to know that she was okay even without him there to guard her.

It would have gone on, he thought, as long as necessary and while he didn't approve, it really was necessary. He was not a man given to complaint, grateful for whatever happiness he was given. His warden however, groaned a sigh, rolling until she lay pressed against his bare chest.

"Come with me," she said with a frowned.

"Cara mia, you know I cannot leave the Crows at a moment's notice," he replied with a half laugh. How he wished he could. How he wished they could run as they did before, camping, making love under the stars. He missed those nights, truthfully, simpler ways and simpler days always appealed to him.

"Crows can suck eggs," She grumbled snuggling under his chin. "I'm tired of missing you."

His arms snaked around her thin waist tending to the muscles in her back absently. Ten years and the softness of beds still disagreed with her spine. He kissed the top of her head. He was tired of it too, but things could not be as they were, they both knew that.

"Isn't there someone you can put in charge?" She asked, her voice a fraction away from pleading, his arm wrapping tighter, comfortingly, around her. "Please?"

A perfect solution, really, and who better to come to it than his warden. He did have a few he trusted explicitly. Even Zevran had to admit, he had a hard time saying 'no' to her.

No time at all seemed to pass, before Zevran found himself before a campfire somewhere far to the south, almost completely in Ferelden Territory. All that was missing was that old Mabari, though they thought it better to leave him behind in Antiva. The war dog was not young when he'd joined them to fight the darkspawn, and the poor creature's joints now ached with age. Zevran knew the feeling as he rubbed at his own hands.

"Creators, I'm cold," she mumbled pressing against his side, her head resting on his arm. The halla blanket had been broken out and the scent of her clan on it, even if it was fraying a little at the ends. Zevran smiled, sacrificing his share of the blanket to tuck around her.

"Really now, all this complaining that Antiva is too hot and now that we return to Ferelden you are cold?" He laughed deep in his chest, though the sound was a bit heavy with exhaustion. It had been far too long since he'd done any real traveling and of course, his dear warden still refused to approach a horse that was more than six or seven hands high. Even he couldn't seem to break her fear of the full grown beasts.

"Zev," His mirth was cut short when she threw her leg over his lap a pout on her lips as she rested her forehead against his. "I'm cold."

"Ah," He felt intelligent and rather hot himself. "I think I can help with that."

"I'm really cold."

Zevran could only grin. "I had forgotten how pleasant camping could be."

"Stop your crowing," and he quiet happily obeyed.

He still awakes, afraid she might not be there, but his nightmares have yet to come to fruition. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him to her like he still is all that matters to her even after all these years. A few nightmares, he thought, might just be worth this.