Jowan felt a moment of disorientation again when he awoke, before recognizing that he was still in Zevran's quarters. He moved, and groaned as the movement set his head to pounding. "Ow!"

Zevran chuckled softly from somewhere nearby. "Sorry, my friend. The brandy helped with many things last night, but I am afraid it has left you with a hangover this morning."

Jowan moaned and sat up, then clutched at his head and swallowed thickly. "Is that what this is? A hangover?" he asked, and squinted at the elf, who was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, mending a torn seam in a shirt.

Zevran looked at him curiously. "Yes Have you never had one before?"

Jowan grimaced. "No. This is a first for me. I wonder..." He concentrated, and felt a faint surge of magic answer his call. A weak healing glow surrounded his hands for a moment, strengthening slowly, and the horrible headache receded. "Well, at least the effects of the smite seem to be wearing off finally," he said, smiling in relief.

"Excellent!" Zevran said approvingly. "How do you feel this morning?"

Jowan frowned, then grinned shyly as his stomach gave a loud, rumbling gurgle. "Hungry."

Zevran laughed. "Get dressed, and we will go for a walk, have some breakfast, and talk a little more."

Jowan nodded, and got out of bed. The only clothes available were the ones he'd worn yesterday, but he'd only had them on for a few hours and they were still reasonably fresh. He self-consciously moved out of the elf's line of sight, and quickly changed back into them. "Ready," he said.

"Good," Zevran said, stabbed the needle he was using through a fold of fabric, and put aside the unfinished mending, then smoothly rolled off the bed and to his feet. "Let's go."

Jowan couldn't help glancing down the hallway toward his and Alistair's room as they left. The door was shut. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed not to catch a glimpse of Alistair. More relieved than disappointed, he decided as they descended the stairs and exited the inn. He still wasn't feeling up to facing the man.

"Shall we go to Tapsters, or find somewhere different?" Zevran asked.

Jowan frowned. Alistair would undoubtedly head to Tapsters to get something to eat once he woke up; he tended to be a creature of habit. "Somewhere different," Jowan said.

Zevran nodded, and led the way off down one of the side-streets leading away from the concourse around the lava lake. They soon came out in a dimly lit courtyard, with several small booths around the edge of it, selling different food-stuffs. Zevran purchased food for the two of them, and they found seats on one of the several outcroppings of rock that decorated the centre of the courtyard. Zevran looked at Jowan thoughtfully as they ate, considering his words of the night before.

"Come, let us walk for a while," he said once Jowan had finished eating. They disposed of the litter from their meal, and headed off, sticking to the quiet side-streets. "You said last night that it scared you, thinking of Alistair."

Jowan tensed, and hung his head. "Yes," he said, voice low and miserable. "I don't want to be scared of him... but I am."

Zevran nodded. "You seemed to think it was because of how big and strong he was, how easily he might hurt you, if he wished to."

Jowan reluctantly nodded. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Do I scare you? I, too, am strong, and could easily harm you."

Jowan gave him an uneasy, sideways glance, then smiled slightly. "No. You don't scare me... not the same way, anyway. I know you're dangerous, but... you don't really look it. You don't feel dangerous to me."

Zevran nodded. "How about the dwarfs," he said, gesturing at the few visible ahead of them. "Many of them are as strong and muscular as our Alistair, are they not? And those weapons! Very nasty."

"Hmmm. A little nervous maybe. But... they're so small. I find it hard to feel scared of someone who makes me feel tall," the diminutive mage pointed out.

Zevran grinned at that. "Okay then, what about a qunari, someone like Sten? He's even bigger than Alistair..."

Jowan visibly paled, and shuddered. "I've heard how the qunari treat their mages," he said faintly. "Sten isn't too bad, but qunari in general terrify me."

"Does Sten scare you more or less than Alistair?"

"More. Much more," Jowan said softly. "Alistair at least believes I'm more than just a thing."

"Sten does too, you know... I do believe associating with us is corrupting him. He will likely find himself feeling terribly out of place after he finally returns home. Especially since they have no cookies there."

Jowan laughed softly. "Perhaps."

"What about Arren? He is larger than either you or I. And the way he handles that big sword of his, like it weighs almost nothing..." Zevran almost purred, a warm smile cross his lips.

Jowan gave him another sideways look. "You, errr... like Arren?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course! He is a very attractive elf. A pity he belongs to the witch already, and she has no interest in sharing. Our dear warden would be made most welcome in my tent any time he wished to enter," Zevran said with a frankly lascivious smile. "So... does he scare you? Even a little?"

Jowan frowned. "Not particularly. He's not all that much bigger than me."

"So, we are narrowing down on what scares you then. Not just someone who is strong, and could hurt you, but someone who is much bigger than you, as well."

Jowan nodded slowly. "Yes. Especially if..." he paused for a moment, swallowed uneasily, then continued. "Especially if they can take my magic away. With... with things like holy smite, or with magebane poison. That scares me, being helpless, being without any power to defend myself. I... I was always so terrified that they were going to make me tranquil, take away my magic forever..." Jowan stopped walking, looking surprised.

Zevran stopped as well, and smiled. "You see? Your fear is not irrational, not at its heart. So is it so much that Alistair is much bigger and stronger than you, or that he can strip you of your powers, that you fear?"

"I... I'm not sure," Jowan said, looking thoughtful.

"Well, think on it," Zevran said, then led the way back to his room at the inn.


Jowan spent the rest of the morning in thought, while Zevran worked on repairing and maintaining his gear. At midday he went out to pick up food for them, taking Alistair along again. The warrior was showing the strain of the last couple of days; his appearance was unkempt, with large dark rings under his eyes, his shoulders distinctly slumped. And he was still being unnaturally quiet.

Zevran frowned, and sent Alistair ahead to place the order for their food while he made a couple of purchases in the commons before joining him there. It wasn't long before their food was ready, and they started back to inn.

"Alistair," Zevran said, his voice a touch on the severe side.

"Yeah?" Alistair asked, not even looking up at him.

Zevran sighed, and stopped walking, putting out one hand to touch his arm. "Alistair. Do not let yourself fall apart like this. Jowan needs you to be strong right now. He loves you. He is trying very hard to find his way back to you. You must not despair, mi amigo."

Alistair just stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. His back straightened just the slightest bit. "All right," he agreed. "I'll try. It's just... I miss him so much," the warrior said miserably.

Zevran snorted. "You must try harder, if you are to come and see him this evening."

That got the man's attention. He perked right up, like a mabari seeing its owner about to go for a walk. "I can see him?"

Zevran nodded. "I think he will be ready to see you by then, at least briefly. So. You are to go to your room, and eat your lunch, and then you are to take a nice nap, and then keep yourself busy for the rest of the afternoon instead of moping. I will be coming over to fetch you some time this evening, if things go well. I want you looking well-rested and calm, not like something the mabari dug up, yes? Make sure to bathe, and put on clean clothes, so you smell and look good. And be sure to use this," Zevran said, picked up his hand, and pressed one of his purchases into it.

Alistair stared down for a moment, then suddenly smiled. His back straightened as he lifted the bar of soap and smelled it. "The same scent," he said happily.

"Yes. He will like that. Now, go eat your lunch."

"All right. Thank you, Zevran," Alistair said, and headed off to his room.

Zevran smiled and shook his head, then let himself back into his own room.


By mid-afternoon, Jowan was starting to get antsy from lack of having anything to do but think, and Zevran decided it was time to bring out his other purchases.

"I have a gift for you. It is in two parts," he told the mage, picked up the oilcloth wrapped bundle he'd brought home along with their lunch, and put it down on the table near where Jowan was seated. "The first is this."

Jowan gave the package and him a puzzled look.

"Open it," Zevran directed.

Jowan hesitantly folded back the wrappings, and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the sheathed dagger inside. "A knife?" he said, puzzled.

"Not quite. A dagger. A weapon. And the second part of my gift for you is that I will spend some time each day in teaching you how to use it, so even if you are without your magic, you will still be able to do something to defend yourself."

Jowan's face lit up. "You... you really think I could really learn how to use this?" he asked hesitantly, reaching out to touch his fingertips to the hilt.

"Of course. It is a simple weapon. I can also teach you how to use your staff like a stave; it is sturdy enough that it will not come to harm being used as such. That will have to wait until we have left Orzammar though; practising the staff takes more room than we have in here. But come, we will have your first lesson in the dagger right now. Starting with how to put it on," he said, smiling, and passed over a second purchase. "Here, a weapon belt for you. The pouch there has a whetstone, oil and cloth for keeping the dagger sharp. We will worry about that later. For now we will try a few different things and try to determine what draw will suit you better."

They spent a couple of hours on that first lesson, most of that spent just in trying different positions for the dagger and different draws until Zevran found one that he felt would work with someone whose right hand was usually occupied with a large staff – slung low on the left hip, where Jowan could draw the dagger with either his left or right hand – and then getting Jowan used to drawing and sheathing the dagger safely with either hand.

"I think we will need to work on both left- and right-hand fighting for you," Zevran said thoughtfully as they sat down for dinner. "So you have some proficiency with the dagger even if still holding onto your staff. You will likely be better at right-handed fighting, since it is your primary hand. Unless you work very hard at left-hand fighting."

"That makes sense," Jowan said, then looked at Zevran curiously. "Which hand are you better with?"

Zevran smiled charmingly. "I am equally proficient with both. Flexibility is encouraged in the Crows. In all things," he added, his grin widening.

Jowan snorted and rolled his eyes. "You're making a joke about sex again," he pointed out. "Does it always come down to sex for you?"

"No, just most of the time," Zevran said, then abruptly shrugged and looked serious for a moment. "I have very few subjects on which I can converse for any length of time, my friend. Sex is among the politest of them, which may give you an idea of just how distasteful many of them are."

"I've heard you talk of other things," Jowan pointed out. "Like... Antiva, or fine food and good drink..."

Zevran grinned. "Yes. Which always leaves me feeling homesick and hungry. You can guess how talking about sex makes me feel." He was pleased to see Jowan laugh openly at that. The mage had recovered considerably from the shaken, withdrawn, frightened man he'd half-carried into the room two days before.

"So, I thought we might have some company over this evening," Zevran said casually as he cleared the table.

Jowan froze for a moment, then looked up. "Alistair?" he said softly.

"Yes. At least for a little while. He misses you very much, you know."

"I miss him, too," Jowan said, more then a touch of longing in his voice. "He made me so nervous when we first met, you know, especially after I learned he was a templar. But he was always... kind, and gentle, and then he became a friend, and I realized he cared about what happened to me..." he trailed off. "I'd stopped hoping that anyone would care about me any more, after... after my escape from the tower. I didn't think I deserved for anyone to care about me any more. Not after betraying everyone I knew and loved."

Zevran frowned down at his own hands. "Betrayal... can be hard to get past. You have to learn to forgive yourself, first. Which can be a very hard thing to do."

"Yes," Jowan agreed softly.