They had been at the inn for an evening.
Just one evening, that was all.
And the only reason they'd survived long enough to make it to the morning was the sound of a creaking doorway.
That was the only sound they'd made and it was what allowed them the vital seconds needed to roll out of bed before the Crows sent their arrows flying.
What happened next was a flurry of blades, twisting bodies and the twanging of arrows as the lovers fought for their lives in the dark.
Had they not been elves, then they would have been completely blind.
It was quite unfortunate for the Crows that they were.
They one that fight, they were panting, sweating and covered in blood, but they won it.
But they had to have a talk afterwards.
Because while this was not the first time they'd faced a Crow ambush, this was certainly the worst one yet.
They were escalating.
Both lovers reached the same conclusion that night: they could no longer only deal with the Crows when they appeared directly on their doorstep.
This needed to be dealt with directly, at the heart of the nest.
They needed to go to Antiva.
Immediately.
…There was just one problem with that.
For, Tabris, had received a letter recently, one that contained an important…job offer. They had been officially appointed Warden-Commander of Fereldan and were due to report to Amaranthine and help rebuild what was left of the order in this weary country.
No small task and one that certainly required a great deal of effort and attention.
Immediately.
That was where they were both heading. They were supposed to attend to this first and then go to Antiva.
They had plans, things they wanted to go together. They'd thought of ways Zev could help Tabris rebuild the wardens, places he wanted to take them when the time came to set sail for his homeland.
And now…
Now they were standing at the docks, with duties pulling them in different directions.
Now they were saying goodbye.
For Maker knows how long.
Then came the first gong, a sound signalling that a boat, the boat Zev very much needed to be on, was about to depart.
It would be leaving upon the third strike.
"So it seems, now the time has come for me to leave you to face the unwashed masses alone, mi amore." Zevran sighed, with a sad smile on his face and the half-hearted attempt at a joke falling quite flat.
"I wish it hadn't. It…would have been nice. Could've helped me terrorise some stuck-up shem nobles at Amaranthine."
But nothing ever fucking goes to plan does it?
"It would have been, indeed…Aah, but do not be saddened my dear warden. We will be together again soon enough, no? After all, you are a mighty warrior who slayed an archdemon and I, the best assassin the Crows ever had. Truly, our enemies stand no chance." That dramatic flair resurfaced and usually Tabris would have laughed at such a display, but…they knew their lover far too well to not know that this display now was merely a mask, and it stung to see him go back to that.
They wanted to say that, that he didn't have to hide it, but they didn't know if they even had enough time for that conversation before the boat left.
"No, they don't do they? Guess we'll just have to see who finishes first. Me, and I go to Antiva to help you, or you and you come back to me in Fereldan."
And they supposed Zev wasn't the only one wearing a mask here today either.
"Oh? A competition is it? Very well then. Although you will have to come to Antiva City regardless, it is a beautiful and exciting place, that could do with being enhanced by the presence of a certain beautiful and exciting warden."
"Then I look forward to that." Tabris replied, these words containing nothing but the honest truth.
Then came the second strike of the gong.
They didn't have much time left.
And so Tabris unsheathed their mother's blade.
Zev's eyes visibly widened when he saw this, recognising it in an instant. He had been just outside the house when Tabris had first received it from their father. He knew full well the significance of it. "That's-"
"The Fang of Fen'Harel. My mother's blade, passed down my family for Maker knows how long." Tabris mused running a finger along the blade, before holding it out towards their lover.
"Now go kill some Crows with it."
"Are you- are you quite certain you wish to part with this?" Zev's hand hovered over the blade, clearly unsure whether or not to grasp it.
"Only if you promise to bring it back to me in one piece."
Zev grabbed it. "I will return it, I promise you that."
Then came the third and final strike of the gong, and the look on Zevran's face was clear.
He had to go.
"Go." Tabris spoke sadly. "Go and try not to fall out of any windows while I'm gone."
But before he did, they pulled each other into one last kiss.
"Fare thee well my warden. And good luck."
And then, with heavy-hearts, they parted.
They parted seeking solace in the promise made by a Fang, that they would see each other again.
And so they did.