A/N: And here we are…the end. This has been one hell of a wild ride and I'm quite sure this story would never have been completed if it hadn't been for all of you. Your amazing reviews were such a joy to read and it kept me writing, knowing that there were people out there who cared about these characters. To all my loyal readers and lurkers alike…thank you so. Very. Much. For those of you curious, this story was SUPPOSED to be all about Alistair, but some how I turned Zevran into a leading man. The path not written did involve Harlow accepting the title of consort, Teagan marrying Elissa and Alistair naming their child heir. So while I didn't end up there, I am none the less pleased with how it all turned out.
Special thanks go to the talented KatDancer who unknowingly became a quasi beta and pointed out my inaccuracies throughout the story. I really appreciated it and glad you caught it before someone else did! Also to The Way They Were, CynderJenn and mandymc for your constant reviews that always brought a smile to my face. And to everyone else who reviewed/faved/followed I have tried to send a pm to all of you but some have slipped through the cracks. If I haven't reached out and told you how awesome you are please know that you super awesome sauce.
Ladies and Gentlemen…I give you…the end.
Epilogue
Harlow Tabris stood at the window of the modest cottage and smiled as she heard Zevran chastise a youth for dropping his guard. For all his years, the elf still had a sharp tongue and wit about him and Harlow almost felt pity for the boy on the receiving end of his temper. Almost. With a contented sigh she turned from the window and set about placing the evening meal on the long trestle table.
Twenty five years ago Harlow had sought out her Antivan elf with a joyous heart and never once had she regretted the decision. That is not to say that it had been easy. Zevran was slow to trust her intentions and Harlow still had a long road ahead of her in letting go of the man she left behind. But neither had given up, and both dug in with a fierce sort of stubbornness. It happened slowly, with flirtation and easy touches, until one day Harlow had surprised them both with a gentle kiss upon Zevran's lips. She could not pinpoint exactly what had shifted within her, all she remembered was watching him sharpen a blade by candle light and she was taken with how undeniably beautiful he looked in the flickering shadows. He had looked at her in surprise before letting a slow smile cross his lips and returning the kiss with far more passion than she had given.
He had proved her fears wrong, showing her that love built on trust and purity could contain just as much desire and fervor as love built on desperation. Harlow had been a fool to ever think that a man such as Zevran Aranai would ever lack in passion. It was something he showed her again and again as she rediscovered how to love another person with all her being.
They had stayed in Amaranthine for five years before Harlow decided she'd had her fill of fighting darkspawn. The title of Commander hung heavy about her neck and she felt herself weighed down by the constant death and taint that seemed to fill every crevice of her life. Together, Harlow and Zevran had stolen from the keep in the dead of night, a simple missive relinquishing her command the only evidence of their flight. Harlow still felt guilty about abandoning her order, but when she weighed it against the happiness of her current life, she never dwelled on it long.
Her and Zevran had settled within the outskirts of Honleath, divesting themselves of their savings to buy a decrepit farmstead. It had taken two years but in the end they had managed to turn the place into a training ground for the local youth, each of them employing their skills to teach the next generation how to wield a blade. Harlow counted the last few years among the happiest of her life. Despite what Anora's poison had taken from her, Harlow found herself a surrogate mother to over a dozen children that passed through her cottage over the last twenty years. They looked up to her with such wonder and delight and she in turn could not help but care for them as she watched them grow from youths to strong adults, eager to make their place in the world.
It is not to say that she never thought upon what could have been. Alistair would occasionally creep into the edges of her consciousness every now and then, and Harlow would find herself lost in memories of a man she had loved long ago. Zevran never begrudged her these times, all too understanding that he was not the first man to hold her heart. Harlow had even told him of the promise she had made before leaving Alistair behind. It had taken him some time to accept such a thing, but he came around quickly enough, their time spent among the wardens giving him a unique understanding into such matters. Despite these upsets in her idyllic life, she never allowed herself to return to Denerim. She knew Alistair had married Elissa Cousland a year after she had left, and occasionally they would receive invitations to royal functions at the palace. Zevran would go in her stead, passing along good wishes and apologies for her absence. Every now and then he would return home with Leliana in tow, and the three of them would talk late into the night, reminiscing on their days long gone as heroes of fabled glory.
Such was her life, and Harlow was quite content with it, more than happy to live out her days with the man who captured her heart against all odds and the motley assemble of children that had come into their lives.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, Harlow hummed quietly to as she busied herself about the kitchen, pulling fresh crusty bread from the hearth and placing it upon the table. It was then that she stiffened, feeling an unseen presence darken her doorway. She spun about, ready to defend her home and was shocked into stillness as she locked gazes with the visitor.
He looked the same as he always had, save for a streaking of silver about his temples and the fine web of lines that aged his face, but he was still as handsome as he'd ever been. It was as if the past two decades had never happened and Harlow was once again that young woman desperately in love with Alistair Theirin. She raised a hand to her mouth, scarce believing that he was here and standing before her. Silence stretched between them, and Harlow was more than willing to let it lie, content as she was to take in his face, relearning every line.
It was only when he opened his mouth to speak did she let herself believe this was not a dream and he was here in front of her.
"I heard the call," he said softly, his gaze intense and locked with hers. Harlow felt herself move without volition, her feet carrying her to his side. When she was close enough to feel the heat coming off him she raised her hand and brought it to his, fingers lacing in a tight grip. No words were spoken, for none were needed. They both knew what lay ahead of them, and a promise had to be kept. Harlow felt a pang of grief for the elf that she would leave behind, but staring into Alistair's eyes she knew their happy life had come to an end. The call could not be ignored, and so she would go, keeping true to her word that she had offered those many years ago.
Her life would be a battlefield for the last and final time, and Alistair would be by her side as he had been so long ago. Harlow felt that love that she had buried deep inside her roar back to the surface and the spark that connected her and Alistair flared to life as she nodded; a silent declaration that the time for them to be together, finally and at last, had come.
