Forgiveness

"Look after her."

Alistair never gave Zevran any other order than that one. It was his first and last order; the one he made right before he went to his death. Zevran, at the time, didn't understand what was going on and why the order was issued. All he knew was that his two Grey Wardens had stopped fighting and started arguing when the archdemon had become too weak to stand up for too long. He had rushed over to them to break up their argument with a tongue-in-cheek comment about their impeccable timing to have a spat, but was taken back from the resolute look on Alistair's face as he gave him that order. The man gave Zevran no time to question or reply as he dashed off, heading directly towards the weakened archdemon.

She had screamed then as she tried to follow Alistair, but a sea of darkspawn had formed between the two of them and the Templar. She was headless of the darkspawn as she tried to push past their tainted blades with her hands rather than her magic. Zevran had then rushed forward and grabbed her by her waist, pulling her back as she yelled and cried and squirmed to get away to go help her comrade. His grip was steady, however, and he managed to back them both away towards their allies.

He wasn't too sure what had happened exactly, but the archdemon had announced its defeat with a roar as it collapsed. They watched in awe and horror as Alistair stabbed the great serpent in the head. Light had then exploded from the creature, and Alistair was caught in the glow until he managed to pull out his weapon.

Then the explosion followed. It knocked them clear off of their feet, and, for a while Zevran knew nothing else.

He awoke to smoke and rubble and a Grey Warden weeping over her best friend's body. He'd held back then as he tried to piece together the last few minutes of the battle and concluded that the Wardens knew that one of them was going to die, and that their argument was about who would deal the killing blow.

"Look after her," Alistair had said—no, ordered. The command might as well have been his last will and testament, and he had told it to no other than Zevran. The elf knew that there was no love between him and Alistair—the man held no trust for him, and always took the opportunity to remind everyone that Zevran was an assassin who tried to kill them. And the glares! The suspicious glares had been never ending, and the assassin had not noticed a change of frequency in the number of times he received those glares per day.

Yet, as he approached his lonely Grey Warden, he wondered when Alistair's opinion of him had changed. He wondered if he had missed a cue, or if it was just something Alistair had decided on in the last minute.

"Look after her," Alistair had ordered, and he would. Zevran intended to honor the order, as the last Grey Warden was as precious to him as she was to her dead companion. Even if it meant that he had to chase her to the ends of the Earth—even if it meant that he had to chase her into the Fade itself—he would look after her. If he died while doing so…at least he would die with a clear conscience and a peaceful heart.