Thanks to Seika for beta reading this and for the title. :)

Heavy Glow

"Zevran? Morrigan sends these – oh." Airam looked around the empty tent. Where could that silly assassin be, this late at night? Disappointed, he put the herbs that Morrigan thought Zevran could find useful on the bedroll, and turned to leave. He should leave. He had no business here without Zevran. Of course, Zevran probably wouldn't mind, but still... it was rude. He would only look around, not touch anything. It was still trespassing. Who knew when he would have such opportunity again?

With that, he looked around. Zevran's tent always seemed bigger than his own. And much neater. There were no books, or potions, or different parts of robes or armour leisurely thrown around. In fact, there was merely a bedroll, and a backpack standing next to it. The temptation to peek into it was huge, but he heroically resisted. That would be rude. He wouldn't like if someone rummaged through his own things, after all. Eh. How boring. One would expect more from the tent of an – wait, what was that?

There was something under the pillow. Something that looked suspiciously like a book. Zevran, reading a book? And he didn't know about it? Now that was suspicious. He had to check that, right? Well then. What kind of book was it? Knowing Zevran, probably a dirty one. That would be good, because then Zevran would have to stop teasing him about Rose of Orlais. He pulled the book from under the cover and eagerly flipped through it.

It wasn't a book. It was a journal. In Antivan. What a pity his Antivan was still so poor. He would so like to – ah, but of course he wouldn't. Reading someone's journal was nothing less than a crime. So, he would put it back under the covers now and then immediately leave the tent. What if Zevran suddenly returned and found him reading his journal? Cold shiver ran down his spine. But then he noticed his name. In Zevran's journal. And he simply had to know.

Frowning, he slowly read the sentence. Airam is... hm, what was this... ah yes, still. Airam is still... But he couldn't remember the meaning of the next two words. He would have to look them up in a dictionary. Good thing he took it from the Redcliffe library, it would be very useful now. He carefully put the journal back under the pillow, trying to arrange everything just as it was before. Zevran would probably still notice it , but he had to at least try.

When he was more or less satisfied, he sneaked out of the tent and quickly went to his own; he had to check the words before he forgot them. It took a while, but finally he found the dictionary and looked up the words. He stared at the result. This was what Zevran thought about him?

oOo

Something was very wrong. Ever since Airam was in his tent and read his journal – the crazy kid would make the worst thief in Thedas – he was behaving... strangely. To put it very mildly. He didn't laugh aloud, for example. No matter how much they tried to make him, he would gave them just a little smile and a dry remark. He didn't tell any jokes, either. And worst of all, he didn't come to him to talk any more. No more questions about Antiva, no more requests for anecdotes about his assassin past.

What could have he read that it made him this angry? Maybe he read about... Zevran's feelings... and found it offensive, that an assassin would... What if he decided he didn't want Zevran around any more? Why did he start to write that journal? Back then he so wanted to do everything he could not do as a Crow. Having a journal was one of hem. But apparently, not everything that Crows were doing was wrong. Ah well. It was useless to wallow in regret now, no? What was done was done. Much more important was the future. And there was only one way to find out. He must go and ask Airam about it. Quite simple, yes? He better go and do it now, before he lost courage again.

oOo

Airam had the same idea, it seemed. "I'd like to have a word with you, Zev... in private."

He nodded, pretending to be calm and confident. The Crow training was really useful, sometimes. They went to Airam's tent, much to disappointment of Morrigan and Leliana. But once there, neither of them could suddenly find a voice. For a quite some time they were just standing there, avoiding looking at each other.

Finally, Airam broke the silence. "I know you're angry with me, Zev, and you have every right to be angry... but... I'm sorry. I really thought it was just a book! You know what I'm like, when I see a book, I had to at least flip through it, and... but if I knew what it was, I'd never would have touched it, I swear! Will you forgive me? I can't stand this any more. I don't want to lose your friendship."

Airam was afraid to lose his friendship? It didn't make much sense, but it made him happy. "Do not worry about it," he said with a wide grin. "It was entirely my fault for leaving it there. An assassin should know better than leaving his journal where anyone can read it."

The crazy kid beamed like wider than he had in days, but then he coughed. "I'm so glad we settled this, like two adults should. Now, we should go back to serious business."

Like two adults? But, what – oh. That was it, no? That was why the crazy kid was acting so strangely these last few days. He wanted to be more mature. Zevran grinned again. "That's what you read in the journal? That you're childish, yes? Of all the things I wrote about you, you had to find that one?"

"Of all the things? What else did you write about me? Come on, you have to tell me – wait, Zev, where do you think you're going now? Zevran!"

A book flew by his right ear.

It seemed his little Warden was back to his good old crazy self again. He chuckled. This was much more fun, anyway.