Zevran gloomily stared into the fire, absentmindedly tracing circles in the crumbly dirt with his free. The other arm was propped up on his knee, his gloved hand supporting his chin. He hardly noticed how uncomfortably warm he was starting to get, nor did he care about the ache in his back that was beginning to form from sitting in the same position for so long. His feet were asleep as well, but it didn't spur him to move. He was too deep in thought, albeit he was rather unhappy about the subject. He couldn't get his mind off Jeirey.

The other elf was across the camp, on the opposite side of the fire. She was sitting on a log... next to Alistair. Zevran could tell that much from the failed attempts at suppressed laughter coming from that direction. And, right on cue, there was that horrible, overpowering emotion - jealousy. Zevran Arainai was jealous of a human man.

When the two Grey Wardens had decided to spare his life after he attempted to assassinate them, Zevran was still surprised even though he had practically begged for his life. Jeirey and Alistair had shown compassion not many people - including himself - would not have, even if the pair were weary of him for weeks to come. And even though he had meant his vow of loyalty, he had by no means expected to become friends with his savior. Least of all begin to have feelings for her.

The thought always made him cringe. The last time he'd felt emotions like these, it hadn't ended well. But he felt there was no use in denying it. Besides, Jeirey was different than his last... interest. So much different. She was beautiful, of course, with her shining emerald eyes and deep brown hair done in an innocent style of three short ponytails, but no more beautiful than any of the other women in the party they traveled with. But he liked to think she was beautiful in more than one way, more than just looks. She was so fierce - terrifying, even - on the battlefield, but otherwise she was possibly the sweetest girl he knew, giving generous amounts of money to beggars and stopping to help every lost child, every injured animal. He couldn't say he'd ever been attracted to a woman like her before; normally behavior like that didn't affect him; he couldn't care less how other people interacted with each other. Actually, if he was completely honest, he was sort of disgusted with helping the less fortunate. He knew that sounded strange, coming from an elf with the background he had, but it was the truth. Yet whenever Jeirey performed one of her selfless acts, it filled Zevran with the oddest desire to smile. It was unnerving. Even Morrigan, who strongly believed everyone was out for themselves and should mind their own business, was softening up to the leader of their group, he could tell.

Zevran wanted more than anything to march straight up to Jeirey and get this off his chest. And under any other circumstance he would have already, but now he was actually considering what would happen if he did. There were several outcomes he could foresee, some far less likely to happen than others. But the bottom line was that Zevran was almost positive that Jeirey did not return his feelings. He knew she viewed him as a friend - a dear, close friend - but it stopped at that. Maybe if Alistair wasn't in the picture things would be different. But he wasn't, and there was nothing Zevran could do.

It was painfully obvious Jeirey and Alistair had a thing for each other. Alistair was particularly hard not to notice with the adoring glances he cast her way when he thought no one was looking (when, in fact, almost everyone was). Jeirey was a little better at hiding how she stared at him, but not much. They also flirted constantly. The two were head-over-heels for each other, and Zevran had heard Wynne and Leliana whispering about how it was almost too adorable to bear. Even Erro, the dog, seemed delighted. The rest of the party, however, quietly turned their heads to gag... not that they weren't begrudgingly happy for one or both of them.

That didn't include Zevran, of course. He was still trying to decide exactly how he felt about this.

He must have been thinking a bit too hard about it, because he didn't even notice Jeirey's approach until she spoke: "Hey, Zev. You feeling all right? You look a little down."

The Antivan nearly jumped out of his skin. "O-Oh, Jeirey," he greeted her hesitantly, not sure what to say. What kind of assassin was he, letting his own comrades catch him by surprise? Embarrassed at his slip-up and his recent thoughts, he shifted his hand from his chin to his forehead, not looking at her. He managed a smile. "I'm, ah- I'm alright. No need to concern yourself over me."

She frowned. "Of course I need to concern myself over you; you're one of my teammates. Partners. Friends. Now, tell me what's on your mind." She took a seat next to him as if to say she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

It was all Zevran could do to not let his smile widen. She was always doing this; no matter who it was, Jeirey was there to help and comfort them in a instant if things went wrong. She had an uncanny ability to sense when someone wasn't feeling their best. Zevran should have expected her to come to him, what with his sulking behavior. In fact, he was surprised she hadn't engaged him sooner.

He cast a discreet glance in her direction to see her twirling a rose between her fingers as she waited patiently for him to answer. Most of her attention was on the flower, however, and she had a sort of dreamy smile on her face. And although it was hard to tell in the dim firelight and her facial tattoos certainly didn't help, he was almost certain that she was blushing.

Zevran dropped his hand and sat up straighter. "What's this?" he evaded her question with one of his own, gesturing to the rose. He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Her eyes widened. "Oh! Um." Hastily, she dropped the flower in her lap and clasped her hands together. "It's nothing." Definitely blushing now.

"Oh, come now," he insisted. "At least tell me who gave it to you." Of course, he knew full well who had given it to her. Even if he hadn't picked up on Jeirey and Alistair's romantic vibes, who else would have? But Zevran found himself loving to talk to her just for the sake of talking, so he made idle chit chat and was perfectly fine with it.

"Alistair did," Jeirey admitted, a shy smile on her face. She didn't meet Zevran's eyes. "But who else would have? Sten?" She laughed. The sound was music to Zevran's ears, and he found himself chuckling along.

"Good point," he said. "So, ah... you like Alistair quite a lot?" The words were out before he was fully aware of it, and he silently cursed himself. Going down this path would only lead to pain for himself.

"Well..." Jeirey grabbed her rose again and drew her legs up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. The bashful smile was back. "Yes, I suppose I do." She hesitated, seeming to consider elaborating, but she decided to hold her tongue.

It just occurred to Zevran that Jeirey didn't consider herself to be in a relationship with Alistair. And if she didn't think so, then neither did Alistair. But they were obviously getting closer to admitting their feelings for each other by the minute. If Zevran told Jeirey how he felt about her, right then and there, there might be a chance...

She cleared her throat. "Don't think I've forgotten my original question, sneaky man. Something was troubling you, I can see. Tell me what's wrong!"

There was a pause before he took a deep breath and started with, "Jeirey, I..." He was about to do it. The unspoken words that would finish the sentence danced on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released. Jeirey herself leaned forward ever-so-slightly, sensing he was about to say something important. "I..."

It never got farther than that. Suddenly Zevran realized he couldn't do it. Not because he was nervous, no. He'd told plenty of women that he was attracted to - interested in - them before. Nothing new as far as that went. And not because he was afraid of rejection, either. It was actually rather the opposite. He could be fairly sure that Jeirey wouldn't - couldn't - simply brush him off if he told her. Her heart was too big. His confession would trouble her a great deal, and even if she didn't truly return his affection, she would feel obligated to. It was the one thing Zevran wasn't particularly fond of when it came to her; she was too kind sometimes. She was too scared to hurt those close to her to consider what she actually wanted.

Besides, what was he thinking? She just told him that she had feelings for Alistair. And even if she hadn't, even if by some chance Jeirey chose Zevran over Alistair, what then? Zevran was never that fond of commitment. Especially after what happened with the last woman he'd had strong emotions for. He never wanted to go through anything like that again. If a similar scenario presented itself with Jeirey... Oh, Maker, no. His last love's terrified, pleading eyes still haunted him in his dreams. If those eyes were ever replaced with Jeirey's, he didn't think he could live with himself.

So Zevran held back the almost overwhelming feelings. For both of their sakes, he told himself. "I just had a bit of a stomachache," he finished lamely. "Must've been something in the food tonight that isn't agreeing with me so much."

Jeirey looked unconvinced and maybe even a little disappointed, but she let the matter go. "I see. Well, it was Alistair who cooked," she said with a wry smile.

"Aha!" Zevran exclaimed with a mock I-knew-it tone. "That explains it." They both laughed again, and he continued, "Tomorrow night, if we go to Denerim, we should stop by the tavern and get a semi-decent meal."

"Only semi-decent?" Jeirey asked, still looking amused.

"Oh, yes. You haven't tasted good food until you've eaten in an Antivan tavern."

"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"I'll let you keep guessing." Zevran gave her a sly smile. "But seriously. I'll make sure you and Alistair sit together."

She began to blush again. "Oh, stop it."

He raised his eyebrows. "By the Maker, Jeirey. Anyone would think that you both grew up in an abbey, the way you're acting. You're grown adults! Pursue him already, or I'll have to..." His sentence trailed off as he realized he didn't know what he was going to say. The quick-witted Zevran, at a loss for words!

"Or what? You'll have to make a move on me?" she finished for him with a chuckle.

Zevran would have found that amusing under any other circumstances. He tried to laugh, he really did, but the sound stuck in his throat. That seemingly harmless jest had slapped him in the face, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He cleared his throat, wracking his mind desperately for another conversation topic, but it was too late.

Jeirey's eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable, but still did all the same. The silence dragged on for a few more unbearable seconds before she also cleared her throat.

"Well, uh-" they both said at the same time, stopping abruptly as they noticed they were speaking in unison. Jeirey smiled awkwardly and Zevran turned his head away. He cursed himself a hundred times over. She knew now. Even if she clearly had no experience in romantic matters, she wasn't dense.

Zevran felt a hand rest on his upper arm. Though her hand was protected by bulky metal, Jeirey's touch was delicate, soothing even. He could only imagine how soft her bare skin was...

Not allowing that thought to continue, he forced himself to turn his head again and look into her impossibly green eyes.

"Zevran..." she began, chewing her lip uncomfortably and looking pained. He waited expectantly for her to continue, not sure what he wanted to hear now. All he could think about while becoming lost in her eyes was how she was torturing him with her hand on his arm and her face so tauntingly close. She needed to hurry it up before he did something he would regret.

"I hope you feel better," she finally told him. But her eyes said something else very different: "I'm sorry."

Before either of them could say (or do) anything else, perhaps for the best, Jeirey stood up and wandered away, twirling the rose in her hand at her side. She didn't go to anyone - not even Alistair - instead stopping at the edge of the camp and simply standing there, looking into the forest, deep in thought.

Zevran watched her with an ache in his chest, knowing he was letting something truly wonderful go.