Zevran raises an eyebrow at my slack-jawed expression, and I work to quickly wipe it off my face. I straighten, and attempt to introduce myself, "I-I am Sadie. Sadie Ba of the Gern."

His other brow joins its brother up near his hairline, "So, you are Dalish then, no? I had suspected but was not sure. I apologize, for I have not heard of the Gern clan. From where do your people hail?"

"S-south of here. Not far. We migrate... migrated mostly from east to west and back again." It hurts to have to correct my tense.

"'Migrated'," he quotes and frowns. "You speak of it as the past. Are your people no more?"

I turn my head towards the ground headless of the rain. He's asking an honest question, yet it is difficult to speak of. It is still so fresh."F-four d-days ago our clan was... was attacked by shemlen Templars. Most did not survive." Suddenly I look into his light brown eyes and hold his gaze with hope shining in my own, "My friends' father was injured badly yesterday when we tried to talk to a shemlen family, and my friend's lover was weakened badly in the fight with the Templars. Do you... do you know of where I can find a healing poultice or two? I left them to find aid."

He frowns deeper, and his eyes hold a sadness to them from hearing my tale. "Ah, but the war with the magi and Templar have affected so many." He rests a hand on my shoulder lightly in comfort, "I happen to have an injury kit, a little elfroot, and three healing poultices. You may have as much as you need Sadie Ba of the Gern, for helping me here with my horse."

My mouth opens and closes a few times before I can speak. From my memories, I know Zevran is of a good sort, despite his often overwhelming flirtations and rakish tendencies. He seems... tempered. Different from what I remember of him, though what I remember is little. And I can't help but wonder at why, like Merrill, I know of him yet he does not know of me. Not once has he seemed to recognize me. Has it truly been so long since I've seen these people, that any recollection of me is lost to time? Or is it something else? Perhaps I just think I know these people, and am lucky when recounting the things I remember? My past injuries make for so much uncertainty in my past, yet I did remember Ostagar. I'm sure I did. That battle, those darkspawn, I've seen them.

"I-I couldn't possibly accept that without paying you... something. They are worth far more than helping you get out of the mud." I lift my hair and remove the carved hand-shaped hairpin from behind my ear, and hold it out in the flat of my palm. "This is ironbark. It should cover the cost."

He shakes his head, and closes my hand with his own over the hairpin. "I know I am what your people call a flat-ear, but I can tell this is an important thing. Especially with that bonding scar on your hand, sí? Your mate wouldn't want you to give up such a precious memento."

My eyes start welling with tears, and I can see him try to fight a grimace. He places his other hand atop our folded hands and whispers just loud enough to be heard over the pattering rain. "Your mate did not survive the attack on your people, mi dulce?"

I shake my head, "No... No, Dynarin... He..." I break off as tears start streaming down my face in earnest.

"Shh," Zevran says to me as he pulls me into an one-armed hug. "I am sorry, mi dulce. Lo siento."

He pulls away from me after a few moments, his eyes looking over my face as if searching for something. We are both soaked now from the icy rain. My face wet and red from rain and tears. He sighs and smooths loose blond hairs back from his forehead. I don't know what he is thinking, but the concern that flashes across his face is enough to make me want to cry again.

"What are your plans after you have healed those injured in your party?"

"We're," I swallow roughly before continuing. "We're heading to a clan in the north. The Uaine. They will offer us sanctuary."

He nods as if making a decision, "I will escort your people north then, to ensure no more become injured."

"But," my brow furrows in confusion, "surely you have plans of your own. Why would you bother to escort a group of Dalish?"

He shrugs, "In truth, I am wandering. I do not have a home of my own, and... it is better if I do not stay in one place for too long. North sounds just fine, mi bonita. And it would be my pleasure to escort you."

His last sentence sounds like it has a double-meaning, but it is just in his nature to say such things. He's trying to lighten the mood. And it worked. I smile genuinely at him, "My companions are staying in a cave that's a two day's walk from here."

He nods and turns towards his cart, as he begins to tether the horse. "We will take my cart. We'll make better time then, I believe."

Over the next day and a half I travel with Zevran back towards the cave I had first set off from. He asks me many questions, and I get the feeling that he is curious about the Dalish. He tells me that he had once joined a Dalish clan in his youth, but found he was not fit for such a life. I tell him about Juno, and stories of her misadventures. He smiles and laughs with me, and confesses that he did not have much of a childhood back in Antiva. I ask him about it, and with some gentle prodding, he tells me he was raised by whores after his Dalish mother had died and later by Crows. I confess to him that I have very few memories of my past before being found by the Gern, and the first memories I really have are of Dynarin. We share our sympathies, our laughter, and tales of your lives until this point. When he tells me about his time with the Wardens during the Blight, I do not tell him that I know he was a companion of the Hero. I do tell him that he seems familiar, and he laughs and asks if I've been in a tavern or brothel recently.

When we reach the area near the cave, he tethers his horse's lead off the road in an area surrounded thickly by trees. He puts the injury kit, elfroot, and healing poultices into a pack, along with surpluses of food and two canteens filled to the brim with water.

We purposefully snap branches along our trek to the cave, so the others know of our approach. I hear Penthea's voice ring out, "Hold strangers. Come no further or you will feel my arrows."

"Penthea!" I yell out, "It's Sadie! Din harel seth'lin. Seth'lin falon."

"Sadie?" She sounds shocked. Did the huntress not think I'd return?

"We have healing poultices, elfroot, and bandages," I reply to her silent question.

I see the huntress step out from the trees. She looks haggard, with dark circles beneath her eyes visible under her already dark skin. "Thank the Creators, lethallan." She looks at Zevran with narrowed eyes. "Who is the flat-ear?"

Zevran doesn't miss a beat, and bows dramatically, "I am Zevran Arainai, and I have offered my services to our dear Sadie."

Her eyes narrow further, "I will be watching you seth'lin. Try anything, and you will feel my blade."

"Oh? I do think I would rather like it if you watched me," he replies with a sly smirk.

I interrupt before Penthea can snap at him. "How is your lover, lethallan? Is she still weak?" I put emphasis on 'lover' and 'she', hoping that Zevran will catch the hint.

The huntress's sharp gaze softens slightly, "Emm'asha has improved, but her wounds still look horrid. She is watching the children."

"And your father?"

"He sleeps much, and is in great pain."

I nod, "We'll help them right now then."

She smiles at me, "Juno will be happy to see her mamae. She has missed you."

As soon as we step into view of the cave, Juno runs from her seat next to the fire and wraps her tiny arms around my legs. I kneel to the ground and wrap my arms around her tiny body as she whimpers and cries 'mamae' over and over again. I feel tears come to my eyes, since my daughter's pitiful cries are breaking my heart. She has missed me so much, but I had to leave and find aid. I carry her towards the others, and I hear Zevran's voice from behind me call out,

"Weren't you a friend of the Champion's, my dear?"

I see Merrill's head whip up at the Antivan's words, and her face break out into a smile as recognition settles over her face, "Oh! You were Isabela's assassin friend, weren't you? But what are you doing out here?"

"Assassin," Penthea spits and rounds to glare at me. "You brought an assassin into our camp?"

"Emma vhenan," Merrill says and gets up a lot less stiffly than before. She settles a hand on her lover's shoulder. "He's not an assassin anymore. He quit, and he's rather nice. Isabela seemed to like him a lot. As did Hawke."

Penthea continues to glower, her hands clenching into fists, as she stares at her feet for a moment before meeting Merrill's gaze, "I'll trust you, emm'asha. If you say it is safe for him to be here, then I trust your judgment."

"Ma serannas. Ma'arlath."

"Ma'arlath," Penthea replies and kisses Merrill lightly on her cheek.

"Come," Merrill reaches out to Zevran, "I assume you have what we need to heal Taregan, falon?"

After Taregan and Merrill are healed, and everyone is fed to bursting, we decide restart our travel north in the morning. Penthea sets off to hunt for many hours, hoping to kill a deer, rabbits, and fowl to give us a variety and enough food for travel. Zevran, myself, and Juno, although the da'len cannot do much, bring the cart closer to the cave and work with bowls to fill a barrel full of water. Juno was immediately curious about the horse, and even bestowed a name onto him, Da'dorf, for the color of his coat. Taregan is sleeping, due to the effects of one and a half healing poultices, so Merrill, Nona, and Nehnia prepare sleeping pallets and gather the remainder of our supplies into bundles and pack them away in the cart. It does not take long to pack our things, since we have so few.

We end the night late, despite our travel plans for the next day, and everyone is in much lighter spirits, even Penthea when she returns from hunting. With Zevran entertaining the da'len, and, well, everyone with his elaborate stories of adventure, I realize that this is the happiest I've seen everyone since the tragedy that had befallen our people. I pray to Mythal and the Creators to guide us in our journey, and ensure our safeties to the Uaine. My encounter with Zevran on the road was a blessing, of that I am sure.

...

Note: Sorry for the -very- delayed update! I had a very, very busy end of the semester at uni – and then I've been swamped with graduation things (meetings, celebrations and the like)! I also started a new project for fanfiction, and unfortunately had to put this story on the back-burner for a bit to tend to that one's formulation and creation of it's first chapter. The story is called Tenebrae, and it's a DAO story surrounding Fala Mahariel, Riordan, Alistair, and Zevran primarily. The idea for it came from the author Apollo Wings. Now that I've discussed/deliberated Tenebrae aplenty with my beta-reader for it, FalconHawk, this story will pick up as normal for updates. I expect this story to be updated every week to every two-weeks, Tenebrae every week, and One More Hawke every week. This story doesn't have very many chapters left comparably as my other two, so its updates will be slower as a consequence. This story will not have the fifty+ chapters that One More Hawke does. I'm extraordinarily sorry for the late update! I give you all hugs for hanging in there!

Translations:

sí: Spanish for 'yes'

mi dulce: Spanish for 'my sweet'

Lo siento: Spanish for 'I'm sorry'

mi bonita: Spanish for 'my pretty'

Din harel seth'lin: 'Do not fear the thin blood'

Seth'lin falon: 'The thin blood is a friend'

Emm'asha: 'My girl'

Emma vhenan: 'My heart'

Ma serannas: 'My thanks'. Or: 'Thank you'

Ma'arlath: 'I love you'

Da'dorf: 'Little grey'