A/N: This was supposed to be the end. But then inspiration came along and ruined it, so I've decided to split the chapter into two chapters instead. Haha. This is kind of like a bridge between 10 & the epilogue, actually. Meh. All hail inspiration!

Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins is owned by Bioware. I'm just borrowing their characters & playing around with them 'cos they're just that awesome.

Is it a dream?
All the ones I have loved, calling out my name
The sun warms my face
All the days of my life, I see them passing me by.
-The Swan Song, Within Temptation

#11: Beginning

Present-day Thedas

Zevran disembarked, pulling a black hood over his head. He gazed around the city, inhaling the nostalgic scent of wet dogs and garbage. Ah, Ferelden. How many years had it been? Ten. Yes, ten long years since he'd last stepped into the continent he'd once identified by the smell of dogs. Ten long years before he'd finally gathered the courage to revisit the place where his life had been marked and changed forever. Even then, this was an official visit.

Ferelden's king had requested it.

The head of the Antivan Crows didn't know why, but he'd accepted the invitation. Ten years had passed since the Blight was ended – at great price. Ten years since he'd held, and kissed, the beautiful elf in whose hands was the key to his heart. Ferelden might celebrate her as their hero, but to the ones who had witnessed her miraculous journey, she was much more than just an iconic figure. Alistair had hinted as much in his lengthy letter, their first correspondence since the coronation.

With a heavy sigh, Zevran entered Orzammar.

Alistair stood there, in his regal king's armor. The assassin dropped to one knee in respect. The king quickly helped him up. "Zevran… forget formalities. Maker's breath, you and I fought side by side in the Blight! How have you been?"

The Crow smiled wanly at him. "I have been well, Alistair. I trust you are, too?" His gaze wandered towards the door, where two girls were peeking. They were suddenly ushered away by a gorgeous lady. She's not Surana. His mood plummeted slightly, but he forced himself to listen to Alistair.

"Yes. I married a noble from Highever... but I didn't invite you here just to chat about our lives." He guided Zevran to the dining hall, where they each took their seats. "I called you here for a reason."

"Yes, I guessed as much." The Crow paused. "This isn't about… her, is it?"

Alistair stared pensively at his plate. "In a way, yes. And no."

Zevran raised an eyebrow.

The king put down his fork, having apparently lost his appetite. "You know… ten years ago, when we were still traveling, trying to beat the Blight… I found a beautiful flower in Lothering. It was a rose." Alistair's eyes misted slightly, and Zevran found himself studying the plain, white tablecloth intently. "It was… the sole, beautiful thing in all that chaos and darkness. I couldn't bear the thought of this lovely rose perishing when the Blight came to swallow Lothering, so I plucked it."

Where is this heading? He didn't want to bring up old memories. Not now. Though it had been a decade, the memories were still fresh in his mind, as if they had happened just yesterday.

"… Zevran, did you know? I'd wanted to give this rose to… her, in a way of expressing that I did love her… but then I saw you, with her, that day after the Landsmeet. And I realized I'd lost… because she loved you. She truly loved you."

Hot tears pricked his eyes.

"I threw the flower away that night." Alistair smiled quietly. "But I know she made the right choice. She chose her happiness, as she deserves."

Zevran looked at him. "And now?"

"I love her still. But her place is with you. And you lived for her."

"I am. Still."Alistair nodded, accepting the correction much more gracefully than he expected. The king rose, coming to Zevran's side. The Antivan Crow looked at him. Alistair was much more somber than he was before, and there was a strange lifelessness in his mannerisms, as if he was moving solely for the sake of moving. "You are acting strangely, Alistair. Have you changed so much in ten years?"

"I have." He hesitated. "I'm sorry… I just wanted to talk before my Calling."

"Your what?" And then he mentally berated himself. Surana had talked about it before. The Calling was a ritual every Grey Warden – those that didn't fall in battle, at least – undertook when they succumbed to the taint. She'd talked about it with a hint of sadness. Zevran wondered how it was like, to know your fate: women weren't killed after all. They were turned into something else."My good friend…"

Alistair laughed. "Yeah. My time has come, as Duncan would say. I didn't expect it so soon, but I wasn't that young when the Blight ended, you know."

"I am sorry." The words instinctively rolled off his tongue. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to. I just… well, I just want you to be there. You know. When… when I go for my Calling. You see, the dwarves have this… pompous, fancy celebration for every Grey Warden who ventures into the Deep Roads. I guess I just want a familiar face there. Everyone else is too far away."

"Ah, you want me to share in the filthy dwarven ale?"

"You could say that." Alistair paused. "Say, Zevran… remember the offer on tattoos you made me all those years ago? Still open?"

Zevran's eyes widened. "You are having me on, are you not, my good friend Alistair?"

"Aha! Bluff called! Just trying to lighten the mood," he explained awkwardly. The Crow snorted. "So I'll see you there?"

"You can count on it, my friend," he promised.

Alistair smiled, but Zevran saw the fear glittering quietly in his eyes.

xXx

The dwarves saw him off in a big fanfare of ale and cheers. They even held a Proving in his name. Zevran was there; he'd promised. He waved when Alistair paused at the opening to the Deep Roads: being a head taller than the dwarves helped when he wanted to stand out.

He was the only companion of their former party to come. He'd tried inviting the others. Wynne and Shale couldn't be reached, having left for the Tevinter Imperium. Leliana had disappeared off the face of Ferelden, and Orlais. Oghren was in Amaranthine, and at the time of Zevran's invitation, he was settling matters in the area with the new Commander of the Grey. Sten had returned to the Qunari – probably telling tales of the Blight now, he presumed – and Morrigan had vanished without a trace as well. Surana's dear mabari had also left; perhaps he'd found a new owner? Zevran guessed he wouldn't know.

The king of Ferelden looked all but confident as he stood at the entrance. Zevran couldn't help wondering how it felt to look into that deep, pitch black maw and walk in, knowing full well you wouldn't see the light ever again. Knowing you'd die there, your bones rotting in some forgotten corner, after the darkspawn had their fill with you. When he thought about that, Surana's death didn't seem like such a painful way to go.

It was all Zevran could do to smile wanly. Alistair replied in kind, though the colour was rapidly draining from his face. Then he drew a deep breath and stepped into the Deep Roads. Zevran didn't turn away until there was nothing left of the Grey Warden to be seen. Only then did he close his eyes and contemplate the loss of a dear friend. A friend who had been not-so-dear to him, but dear indeed to his beloved.

As the dwarves reverently filed away, Zevran made his way out of Orzammar. He blinked at the blindingly bright sunlight, stopping a moment to catch his bearings. And as he trekked across the Frostback mountains, back to Ferelden and then Antiva, he came to a decision.

This time, he wouldn't live in the past anymore.

He would live in the present.

And he would live, not only for Surana, but also for the Grey Warden who had loved her. He would live for Alistair, too.

Would Surana be happy about that? He could just imagine the gorgeous elf lying on the bed, propping her head up with one hand and watching him intently. Zevran would lie beside her, stare at the ceiling and ponder his options. Finally he would roll over, look into her brilliant green eyes and say, "I will live for him too. What do you think of that, my heart?"

And he could imagine her laughter, like the peal of a bell, lifting his spirits. "Why are you asking me? I have never asked you for your opinion on such issues, have I? So long as your heart remains mine, do as you will."

The vision faded, and Zevran was left staring at the sky. He shivered as the chill of the Frostback mountains crept up on him. Then he smiled and nodded at no one in particular.

This page of his life had ended.

A new chapter had begun.