Several hours after Alistair woke, his withdrawal symptoms began to kick in, hard. It began with cravings and a cold sweat, and then he began shaking uncontrollably. Zevran recognized the symptoms at once, having seen several Crows go through similar withdrawals in his day.
Alistair was sobbing and shaking. "Zev, please! I need a drink. Just one! Please!" Alistair begged, as he struggled with the elf preventing him from dressing and heading over to the tavern.
"No, Alistair. You must remain strong. I know this part will be difficult, but you must endure it, if you are to get this out of your system," Zevran stood firm. In his current condition, Alistair was no match for the wiry elf.
Soon Alistair's system was purging itself all on its own, without the help of Zevran's herbs. Zevran remained at his side, talking him through it with soothing words. Once the first round of purging ended, Zevran made sure Alistair drank as much water as he could hold down.
In-between purges, Alistair kept trying to get up and go to the Hanged Man for a drink. He even shoved Zevran hard against a wall in anger and frustration when the elf refused to let him leave. Thankfully Alistair's weakened state made it easy for Zevran to subdue him, forcing the man to remain restrained to his bed. The elf only let him up when another round of purging was imminent.
This went on, worsening for the next 2 days. Alistair could barely keep water down for very long and so that's all Zevran gave him. Finally Alistair got past the point of purging anything in his stomach. Once he was able to keep water down, Zevran also got him to consume some thin broth.
...
After letting Alistair up to relieve himself of the copious amounts of water, and now broth, Zevran kept forcing him to drink, the elf was once again tying his wrists and ankles to the bed, still not trusting the man to just bolt and run to the Hanged Man as soon as he turned his back.
Alistair watched Zevran deftly retying the knots, with a slight smirk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoy keeping me tied up," he said hoarsely, his voice raw after two days of regular purges.
"Ah, yes my friend. I've fantasized about you tied up and at my mercy for years. However, I did not envision it accompanies with shaking and purging, however," Zevran said with a wink.
"Fair enough," Alistair croaked, settling himself back down on the bed.
"It is a good sign that you are getting some of your sense of humor back, my dear Alistair," Zevran said, smiling. "However, I know from experience you are not quite out of the woods yet. Another reason for your restraints is in case you suffer from hallucinations."
"Maker, hallucinations too?" Alistair frowned. "The Darkspawn driven nightmares I still have are bad enough."
"Si, my friend. I have helped several others through this process and they almost always suffer from hallucinations," Zevran explained. "Keeping you restrained until you are past those is for both of our benefit."
"How long do you think all this may take?" Alistair moaned.
"If you are lucky, perhaps a couple of weeks," Zevran said thoughtfully. "If you are unlucky, a few months."
"A few months?!" Alistair groaned. "Maker that would be awful. I hope my Grey Warden stamina kicks in and keeps it to a couple of weeks."
"I too am hopeful for that, my friend," Zevran said. "Once you are feeling better, how would you like to travel to Rivain with me?"
"Why Rivain?" Alistair asked.
"I have a contract to fulfill. I am working for a group of rogue Magisters in Tevinter who are seeking to end the slave trade there," Zevran explained. "They will pay me good coin to remove the head of one of the largest slave traders in Rivain."
"So you're targeting slavers instead of Grey Wardens these days?" Alistair joked weakly.
Zevran just nodded. "Get some rest Alistair. You will need it. You aren't through the worst of this yet, I think."
Alistair sighed and closed his eyes and was soon snoring softly. Zevran liked the quiet moments like this, when Alistair looked so peaceful in sleep. A part of him still longed to hold Alistair in his arms, to show him pleasures he had never known. Zevran was resigned to having only a friendship with Alistair. It would have to be enough.
Yet despite his resignation, Alistair managed to manifest himself in Zevran's dreams, like a glorious golden god of passion. In his dreams, he and Alistair knew every inch of each other, and Zevran awoke each morning embarrassingly hard, and had to steal a few minutes away from Alistair in order to take care of the problem.
After each time, Zevran swore to himself this must end, but his dreams kept plaguing him.
...
Alistair didn't tell Zevran but he had noticed Zevran's difficulties in the mornings and he was embarrassed that he felt his own stirrings whenever Zevran went off to take care of his problem. Alistair had an idea how Zevran was taking care of it, but it was not something he had much experience in.
Alistair had once touched himself when he hit puberty, but a Chantry sister caught him and he was made an example of, publicly whipped in front of all his classmates for the offense. He never dared touch himself again, no matter how much his traitorous appendage seemed to need it. Instead he learned to bring the appendage to heel through sheer mental discipline.
It didn't help that Alistair secretly did find Zevran attractive. He had for years, but was too afraid to admit it to anyone, even himself. He always tried to suppress and ignore his physical reactions to the elf, which thankfully was easier to do when Zevran remained fully clothed.
...
Zevran's prediction that the worst was not yet over was proving to be true. A few hours later Alistair awoke, screaming. He wailed and shouted and tore at his bonds. Zevran quickly realized from Alistair's shouts that Alistair thought he had been kidnapped by slavers. Alistair was having hallucinations based on their last conversation.
There seemed nothing Zevran could do to reassure or soothe Alistair, so instead he went along with the hallucination, pretending to be a slave master and ordering the poor hapless Alistair to silence, or face punishment. Zevran knew he wouldn't even have to punish Alistair, his threats alone were enough to subdue him in his weakened state of mind.
It took several hours for Alistair to finally come back to his right mind again, and he thankfully didn't remember anything. Zevran mopped his sweat soaked brow again and tried to get him to take more water and broth before asking him to settle down and get more rest. Zevran had seen bad withdrawals before and knew that this would not be the last hallucination he would have.
...
A week had passed and Alistair was finally starting to look better. He'd had several more hallucinations that wore both of them out, and Alistair mostly slept between each incident. Each hallucination was some terrifying to Alistair, either being caught by slavers, surrounded by Darkspawn, and even one where Alistair thought Zevran was a broodmother. Being restrained seemed to worsen the hallucinations, but Zevran did not dare let Alistair loose in that state.
Once the hallucinations were mostly passed, and Alistair was finally able to hold more solid food down, Zevran began to let him eat small amounts of dry bread.
Alistair whined at the sight of the bread. "You promised there would be cheese!"
Zevran chuckled. "There will be my friend, once your stomach is able to handle it. I promise I will let you have as much cheese as you desire."
Alistair also wasn't being restrained as much anymore. His cravings were still strong, but he promised to be good while Zevran was awake. Zevran still feared Alistair running off while he slept and he convinced the man to let himself be restrained whenever Zevran required sleep.
One afternoon Alistair was sitting and conversing with Zevran when he frowned. "I wish I could take a bath," Alistair said, wrinkling his nose at his own odor.
"I can help you with that, my friend, if you wish?" Zevran offered.
"How?" Alistair asked innocently.
"I have soap in my pack. I can fill the bucket with fresh water and use the cloth to clean you, will that be acceptable?" Zevran asked.
"I suppose," Alistair sighed. "Not as good as a bath though."
"When we travel to Rivain, I know a perfect little fresh water lagoon we can stop at, and we can both bathe, yes?" Zevran offered.
"How long until you think I can travel?" Alistair asked.
"If you continue to make progress as quickly as you have been, I think you should be fit enough to travel within another week," Zevran said. "But first you must regain your strength, yes?"
Zevran then went to fill the bucket with water and helped Alistair sit up. He gently used the cloth to wet him down and then soaped the cloth and helped Alistair wash. He gently moved the cloth with the soap in circles over what were once impressive muscles. Alistair hadn't lost all of his muscle definition, but he was much leaner than he had been during the Fifth Blight. Finally the elf smoothed a rinsed cloth over him to wipe away the soap.
Zevran fought his arousal from touching his friend this way, and he tried to focus on his task.
"That…feels nice," Alistair said blushing. "Thank you, Zev."
"It is no problem at all. Perhaps you can also help me when I am done? I can reach most everywhere, but I am still not limber enough to wash the entirety of my back," Zevran asked.
"Yeah, sure, I can do that," Alistair agreed.
Zevran then proceeded to remove the top half of his clothes and he heard Alistair's breath hitch as his eyes traveled over his now naked torso, which made Zevran smirk. He then turned around to allow Alistair to wash his back. Alistair was very tentative about it, barely touching the cloth to the Antivan's skin.
"My dear Alistair, you must rub a little harder if you are to help me become clean," Zevran admonished with a chuckle, noting the Alistair was now blushing a deep red. Zevran took that as a sign of recovery. The Alistair he knew had always been quite quick to blush.
"Oh, yes, sorry about that," Alistair said, pressing the cloth a bit more firmly against Zevran's back. "Like that?"
"Ah, yes, much better," Zevran sighed. It felt good to feel the touch of another again. It had been too long, by Zevran's estimation. "Thank you, my friend."
That night Zevran's dreams of Alistair were particularly erotic. "Brasca!" Zevran swore under his breath when he once again awoke with an extremely hard erection, and he made his way into Alistair's privy to deal with it, reimagining the vivid scenes from his dreams the night before.
...
Over the next week Alistair began to eat more, and Zevran finally allowed him to eat cheese and meat again with his bread, and also insisted on some fruit as well. If it had been left up to Alistair, he'd probably eat mostly cheese.
Alistair couldn't deny that he still had very strong cravings for alcohol, and it was worse at night, especially if he awoke from a tainted nightmare, or let his thoughts stray to his memories of the Landsmeet and the betrayal from the man he thought was his best friend.
Having Zevran there to watch over him helped keep him in check and he would force himself to drink water instead. A part of him began to long for Zevran to just hold him through the worst of it, but he was terrified of his body's reaction to such touch and he felt a burning shame anytime there was any stirring at all in his groin.
At least just having Zevran near was a source of comfort to the troubled man. He did feel a little guilty as he knew Zevran desired him, but the thought of anything beyond friendship terrified him, remembering his Chantry punishments anytime he displayed any mildly deviant behavior, fearing the wrath of the Maker.
Alistair had often wished he could be as cavalier about love and sex as Zevran seemed to be, but he knew they couldn't have had more different upbringings. Zevran being raised in a whorehouse, and then purchased by the Crows at age 7. Alistair was raised in a nobleman's household, and then the Chantry and the Templar order. As debauched as young Zevran's childhood was, Alistair's was equally chaste.
...
Other than the near constant cravings, Alistair was feeling a lot better. Better than he had in years. By the end of the week Zevran deemed him fit enough to travel and they began to make preparations to leave Kirkwall. Alistair accompanied Zevran as they shopped for gear and supplies for their planned travels. Alistair would not be sorry to leave this shithole of a city. Denerim had been a veritable paradise in comparison.
As they made their way out of Kirkwall, Alistair felt as if his life was starting a new chapter, and he was going to try and make the most of what Zevran had given him. A second chance.