Orzammar is finally behind me - YAY! Now we get to the REALLY good stuff - and MUCH faster!
Lisa - I cannot even begin to say how much your support and care mean to me! I'd hate to imagine ever going it alone! Love you so much!
Thanks to everyone who has read and favorited this story!
To the awesome "We Hate Howe Club" and my repeat reviewers: voltagelisa, Lavinia Luscious, zevgirl, Miltonia, CCBug, sandradee27, Nithu, Nanicane, WitchWeaver,
tgail73, KayraCousland, Eriana10, AlexSavard, AdalaeAmell, heavenXscent, Constantano, Steve 69, Deeca, Sharem, Deliciously Weird, Sarkule, Kira Kyuuketsuki, dragonzap93, naomis8329 and thnewandrew: You make the journey a true joy!
Bioware owns all!
Orzammar had its new king. Harrowmont was declared Endrin's rightful successor before the Assembly with the crown provided by Caridin and the Wardens. Prince Bhelen had promptly attacked the new ruler and was killed by the deshyrs in attendance; Zeva and her party providing aid to Harrowmont and his guards. Not wishing to spend one more moment in the dank halls, the Wardens exited to Hall of Heroes; squinting as the bright sunlight burned their eyes.
"Ancestors' tits!" Oghren said, staring up at the clear blue sky of the Frostback Mountains. "Can we stop here a minute? I want to make sure that I'm not going to fly away!"
Zeva smiled, stretching languidly; reveling in the feel of the crisp, cool air on her face. "We can stand here as long as you would like, Oghren," she said gently, glancing down at the latest addition to their party. "I can't even imagine what this must feel like for you."
Oghren leaned close to Zeva, gazing around to make sure no one else was listening. "I wanted to thank you for letting me join up with you," he said softly. "I haven't really had a place in Orzammar since…" He trailed off, staring down at the ground.
Zeva immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Well, you have a place now," she replied. "I'm surprised you would even think of coming with us, considering how many horrible things have happened since we first met."
"Are you kidding?" Oghren said, laughing heartily. "Just watching the Warden Commander and the elf fight for the alpha position with you is worth all the trouble! I haven't laughed so much in a long time!"
Stepping down the steps into the marketplace, Zeva groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet!" she said, shaking her head slowly. "Wait until we return to Redcliffe! The night before we left, my choice in relationships actually inspired violence."
"I knew you were my kind of people, Warden," the dwarf stated, his eyes glittering brightly for the first time since Zeva had met him. "I have a feeling life won't be dull with you around."
"Sometimes, Oghren, dull would be nice," the Warden confessed. She stopped near a weapons stall, listening to the owner closely as he attempted to sell a set of qunari armor to a customer. Her expression grew severe; and as she approached the human merchant, Zevran couldn't help but chuckle. He, unlike the rest of the group, knew what was about to happen.
"Is your name Faryn?" Zeva asked the merchant, stepping between the human and his dwarven customer.
"What's it to you?" the scruffy man replied, staring at Zeva suspiciously. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have customers to attend to…" The dwarf ran as Zeva grabbed the human's shirt and yanked him toward her, holding her knife to his throat.
As Duncan moved to intercede, he heard Zevran's voice close at his side. "I wouldn't if I were you, Warden Commander," the elf said quietly. "This is one of those moments when Zeva comes to the aid of a friend; and you know how dangerous it can be to interrupt her when she is in that particular frame of mind."
"Let me tell you 'what it is' to me," Zeva replied maliciously. "I recently met a scavenger outside of the Circle Tower who had quite a tale to tell about a man named Faryn. Apparently this particular scum defiled the bodies of some fallen qunari warriors and stole their armor and weapons before fleeing to Orzammar. Among his plunder is a qunari sword that belongs to a dear friend of mine. I intend to return that sword to its rightful owner, and I would advise Faryn, whoever he may be, to cooperate fully. Otherwise, I can't guarantee his continued safety."
Smiling wickedly as she felt the human begin to shake in her hands, the furious Warden continued. "If I am not mistaken, you were trying to sell qunari armor to that dwarf," she spat. "That means that you are Faryn, in which case you have something I want; or you killed Faryn for his items, in which case I can end your miserable life without the least bit of guilt. Care to tell me which assumption is correct?"
Zevran's smile widened as Oghren stepped beside him. "A sovereign says he pisses himself," he said, chuckling softly as he watched the scene play out before him.
"I… I am Faryn, Miss," the merchant said, his voice barely above a whisper. "P-please let me g-go now."
Releasing his shirt, Zeva stepped away, sheathing her weapon and crossing her arms over her chest. "Where are the qunari swords you stole from the warriors' bodies?" she asked icily.
"There was only one sword," he replied, his eyes wide with fright, "and I sold it already – I swear!"
"How convenient," Zeva replied, shaking her head slowly. "I hope you can tell me who bought it, as my patience is wearing very thin."
Faryn nodded enthusiastically, trying his best to smile at her. "A dwarf named Dwyn bought it," he said quickly. "He said he was a collector and he wanted to add it to his stash in Redcliffe."
"Dwyn?" Duncan asked, seeing his chance to intercede on the merchant's behalf. "He's the dwarf that fought beside us in Redcliffe, Zeva. We should see him about this sword when we return to the village."
Zeva nodded, though her eyes were still riveted to Faryn's; causing him no small amount of distress. "What else did you take from the qunari battlefield?" she asked carefully.
"Just some armor and a few trinkets," he replied, swallowing thickly. "Don't suppose you would want to buy them?"
He raised his hands quickly in surrender as he recognized the anger in Zeva's eyes. "Or you could just take it all," he said, reaching into the crate at his feet and pulling out several parcels. "I am sure your friend would like to have it back."
"Good choice, my terrified friend," Zevran said as he took the packages from Faryn. "Far better to part with your stolen goods than your head."
Without another word, Zeva turned and headed down the mountain; Zevran and Oghren on either side.
"The more I travel with your Zeva," Wynne told Duncan as they followed their companions, "the more intrigued I am by her. There are so many facets to her personality, and I don't believe I have ever seen anyone as fiercely loyal to those she cares about."
"It's both a blessing and a curse at times, I believe," Duncan replied quietly. "She gives everything to those with whom she travels, and I worry that some are not worthy of that honor."
"You speak of the elf and the apostate, I presume?" Wynne asked in her 'motherly' tone. Duncan nodded slowly and the mage placed a hand gently on his arm. "I must admit that I find Morrigan to be extremely abrasive, and her motivation for helping Zeva often disquiets me. However, and I know you will not be happy with this, Zevran seems to genuinely care for your Warden and even I would trust him with her life."
"It's not her life that concerns me," Duncan replied, his eyes filled with sadness. Wynne didn't need to ask what he meant. She had seen the way the two rogues looked at each other and she knew, as did Duncan, that there was a piece of Zeva's heart that would never be his alone. The assassin already held it firmly in his hand.
o~~~~~~~~o
"So, my lady was promptly tossed out of the castle on her high and mighty arse," Eveline told the bartender at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Arlessa Isolde and her entourage had arrived in Denerim several weeks before, and the maid had promptly taken up residence on the barstool when she wasn't busy listening to the Arlessa bemoan her horrid lot in life. Horrid life? Eveline though angrily as she recalled the latest crying fit. I would switch positions with that ungrateful bitch in a second.
Ryan Ingols wiped down the bar with a dirty cloth, wishing that the magpie of a maid would find somewhere else to plant her hindquarters when she wasn't working. The only reason he tolerated her at all was the possibility of getting a closer look at those hindquarters; and, at this moment, he wasn't sure if it would even be worth the grief he received by having to listen to her constant prattling-on. Just as he was about to tell her to find someone else's mead glasses to cry in, she made a comment that sparked his interest. "I'm sorry, honey," he began sweetly, refilling her glass, "I missed that last part. What did you just say?"
Eveline leaned forward on the bar, pleased to have Ingols' undivided attention. "My lady says the whole thing is the fault of that female Warden and her companions," she repeated, her eyes slightly clouded by the amount of mead she had already consumed. "If that Zeva woman hadn't come around and turned Bann Teagan and Arl Eamon against her, she would still be in Redcliffe with her Connor."
Looking furtively around to make sure no one else was listening, Ingols placed his hand over Eveline's. "Arl Eamon has opened his home to Grey Wardens?" he asked conspiratorially.
Thrilled at the thought that she had important information, Eveline's smile brightened. "It's more than just that, Ryan," she purred, caressing his hand intimately. "Me and Sarah happen to know for a fact that Bann Teagan had the Cousland woman while she was staying at the castle a couple of months ago. She turned him aside for that handsome Warden Commander, though, and he has since lost his mind with jealousy. Arlessa Isolde says that is why the Bann was so adamant that she be removed from her own home. The Warden is due back soon from some mission, and she is sure that he plans to convince Eamon to help him take her from the Rivaini."
The last of her gossip was drowned out by the sound of sovereigns jingling in Ingols' head. His men had been keeping an eye out for news of the Cousland woman at the behest of the new Arl of Denerim, and this was the most solid lead any of them had received in weeks. Gazing wantonly at Eveline, Ingols took her hand; leading her toward the storage room behind the bar. "Eveline," he said softly, "why don't you come with me and we can discuss an arrangement that may well benefit both your employer and mine."
o~~~~~~~~o
"If I never see a snowflake again, I will be a happy woman," Zeva said as she tossed off her cloak, sitting down on the green grass to remove her thick woolen boots. The party was travelling down Gherlen's Pass on their way to the Imperial Highway and Redcliffe. Duncan sat next to her, removing his own excess clothing. His eyes slid hungrily over her lithe frame as she lay back on the warm ground; staring up at the clear blue sky. He didn't realize how blatantly he was staring until she spoke.
"See something you like?" Zeva asked, grinning wickedly at him. "You know, if you keep looking at me that way, we may have to set camp right here."
Duncan moved swiftly, pulling Zeva beneath him on the ground and kissing her passionately. Since leaving the Deep Roads, the couples' nightmares had diminished greatly, and the Warden Commander was anxious to resume their normal nocturnal activities. It had been far too long since he had felt her body beneath his; her moans of pleasure filling his ears. Ending their kiss, he gazed deep into her eyes. "I love you, Zeva," he whispered, running his fingertips over her lips.
"I love you, too," Zeva replied, grasping the back of his head and kissing once more before rising into a sitting position. "Now, we had best get moving before the others lose all patience with us."
"Don't worry about me," Oghren said, chuckling deviously at the smiling couple. "Go back to what you were doing. I was just beginning to enjoy the show."
Duncan rose, pulled Zeva up from the ground and wrapped his arms around her. "It was your idea to allow him to come along, wasn't it?" the commander asked, glancing over at the dwarf irritably. "I am beginning to question your taste, my darling."
"And at last we agree on something, Warden Commander," Zevran spoke, picking up Zeva's discarded clothing and placing the pieces in his pack. "Though I was thinking of you at the time; not the dwarf."
"On that note," Wynne interjected before Duncan could reply to the assassin, "we should probably move along. We have a long way to go and I have no doubt you are all as anxious as I am to sleep in a real bed. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we get to Redcliffe."
As the party continued down the dirt road, Zeva couldn't quite stifle the feeling of dread that overcame her at the thought of returning to Arl Eamon's castle and Teagan….
o~~~~~~~~o
"You cannot tell me you aren't concerned about your companions, Alistair!" Fergus cried as he paced the main dining hall of Redcliffe castle. In the weeks since the arrival of the Warden's party, the Teyrn had grown steadily stronger; finally reaching the point where he was able to resume combat training.
Unfortunately, as his physical stability grew, his mental stability withered. His fear for his missing sister grew with each passing day, and Teagan wasn't sure how much longer they would be able to keep him in Redcliffe. Fergus had begun to hint at leaving for Orzammar to seek Zeva out, and Teagan had called for Alistair and Leliana; hoping they could help convince the distraught man to wait for her to return.
"Of course I worry about them, Fergus!" Alistair replied, throwing his hands up in frustration. Fergus had insisted that the Warden's party call him by his first name, as it was often too emotionally painful to hear himself called Teyrn of Highever. Teryn Cousland was his father, not him; and he didn't need any more reminders of all he had lost at Howe's hands.
"However," Alistair continued, "you saw Zeva's letter for yourself. She and Duncan were forced to enter the Deep Roads to search for a Paragon, of all things! The Deep Roads are vast, and any search would take weeks to complete." Zeva and Duncan had composed a letter to Alistair before their search for Branka began and sent it by messenger to Arl Eamon's castle. The Wardens knew they would be gone far longer than their companions in Redcliffe would have expected, and they didn't want them to worry when they failed to return in a timely manner.
"So you suggest that I sit here and wait, while my sister could be trapped somewhere in the cursed Deep Roads beneath Orzammar; battling Maker knows how many darkspawn?" Fergus asked, his face showing the anguish he felt.
Leliana sighed, stepping forward and grasping the Teyrn's arms in her hands. His eyes widened in surprise, but he remained silent. "Let me ask you something, Fergus," she began softly. "What will Zeva say if you leave here in search of her and she returns, having missed you on the road? You and I both know she will be devastated. Do you want that for her, because I don't. Her greatest desire was to be reunited with you, and I will not allow you to do anything that will keep her from receiving that gift. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
Teagan and Alistair exchanged amused glances, amazed by the forward nature of the lovely bard. Fergus momentarily looked as though he would argue; but then he nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping sadly. "You are right, Leliana," he replied quietly, "and I am sorry for my rash behavior. Zeva would be very disappointed in me right now; I am sure of it. It's just that I am so concerned for her safety. I want her here, where I can watch out for her."
The bard smiled, gently squeezing Fergus' arms before releasing her hold on him. "I understand your concern," she began, "and I share your fears. Believe me, I do. However, Zeva is the most capable fighter I have ever met; and Duncan and Zevran will both give their lives before allowing her to come to harm." She quickly glared at Teagan as she heard the snort of derision he made no attempt to hide.
"Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me," she said softly, "I promised Arl Eamon I would come up this afternoon and regale him with tales of intrigue to keep his mind off of the fact that he can't yet move freely around his home." Smiling warmly at Fergus, the red-head turned and quickly exited the room. Alistair followed behind her, the kitchen larder loudly calling his name.
Fergus watched as Leliana departed and then turned his gaze to Teagan; frowning as he saw the mirth that filled his friend's eyes. "Whatever you are thinking, Teagan," he said irritably, "you are wrong."
Teagan laughed heartily, rising from the dining table and pouring two glasses of brandy from a nearby snifter; handing one to the Teyrn. "Whatever you say, Fergus," he said jovially. "I would certainly never presume to mention how often I have sought you out recently, only to find you in the company of a certain lovely bard."
Though he received a furious glare for his comment, Teagan could see the blush that crept up Fergus' neck. "I've just lost my family, Teagan!" Fergus exclaimed angrily. "I am not looking for any type of romantic entanglements; particularly not with one of Zeva's companions."
"We never look for these things, Fergus," Teagan replied quietly, taking a seat before the fireplace. "They simply happen. Take Zeva and me, for example. I was sure I had lost her forever, and then she appeared in the Chantry when I needed her most."
Fergus sighed heavily. He had attempted to avoid discussing his sister with the Bann ever since the day he spent in the garden with Leliana. He knew how much Teagan adored Zeva, and he didn't wish to bring pain to his closest friend. Yet he could not avoid the fact that she would be returning soon with the man the bard claimed she loved more than anything else in this world.
As the new head of the Cousland household, Fergus knew it was his responsibility to make sure his sister was properly cared for, and he knew Teagan would give her everything she ever desired; she need only ask. However, he had to weigh her feelings in any decision he made; and until she returned and he met the Warden Commander, he had to maintain an open mind with regards to her potential suitors.
"Teagan," he began carefully, sitting across from the Bann before the fire, "the day you first found Leliana and I in the garden, we were discussing Zeva and her relationship with the Warden Commander. She seems to think they are ideal for each other."
The Bann's jaw tightened and Fergus could clearly see the anger flash in his eyes. When he spoke, there was a steely edge to his voice. "I imagine she does," Teagan replied. "After all, she has only known Zeva for a few months and her experiences are all linked with both Wardens. Duncan is a charismatic man, and I am sure he has her convinced of his devotion to Zeva. In fact, I do not deny the possibility that he believes that he has true feelings for your sister." Fergus' eyes widened, as he never imagined he would hear that admission from Teagan's lips.
"My concern is with the timing of this relationship," Teagan continued, gazing steadily into the flames of the fire. "Think about it, Fergus. The Warden Commander arrived at your home and then Howe attacked, forcing he and Zeva to flee to Ostagar; where they met still further tragedy at the hands of Loghain. Every moment of the last several months has been emotionally charged for Zeva, and Duncan has been with her for many of these traumatic events. It is only natural that she would feel something for him, but is that love? I am afraid that she has begun to mistake her appreciation for his help with feelings of devotion."
Teagan smiled warmly as he turned his attention to the Teyrn. "My relationship with Zeva developed over many years; from childhood playmates to teenage friends and finally to adult lovers," he explained carefully. "There has been no trauma that forced us together. Everything I feel for her is based on the woman I know her to be, not any dire circumstances we faced. For that reason, I know that my love is real and true and will never change. Can Duncan say the same? For that matter, can Zeva say the same when it comes to her commander?"
Though Fergus wanted to remain neutral, every word Teagan said resonated deep within him. His own thoughts had followed much the same path, ever since he first heard about Zeva's relationship with Duncan. Against his better judgment, he nodded slowly to his friend; seeing the look of relief that filled the Bann's eyes. "You have a valid point, Teagan," he admitted. "I have felt the same of late, and I plan on making sure my sister looks at her situation very carefully when she arrives here. I will not have her throw her future away on a man who may lose interest in her when their lives are no longer in jeopardy."
Teagan rose from his chair, grasping Fergus' shoulder gently before pouring them each another drink. "I think you are making a wise choice, my friend," he said quietly, "though I do not envy your position. I think our beautiful Zeva will be quite a handful for you when she finally returns. Her independent spirit has only grown during her months with the Wardens. You may want to keep Kinnon nearby, just in case…"
Neither man saw the sparrow perched on a beam high over their heads. The bird flew through an open window, coming to rest in a remote area of the grounds. Moments later, shaking the dust from her clothes, Morrigan headed back to the castle; a broad smile on her face.
Bann Teagan may not be such a lost cause, after all…
o~~~~~~~~o
Dusk fell on the Wardens' party and they set camp far off the Imperial Highway, wishing to avoid any unwanted company. Dinner passed pleasantly, Zeva and Wynne having cooked a rather delicious rabbit stew with provisions killed and collected by Duncan and Zevran. Oghren provided the entertainment; telling his new companions stories of his time as a warrior in Orzammar and the most gruesome battles in which he participated.
Zevran and Wynne took first watch and the rest of the party retired to their tents. Duncan had just slipped under the blankets on his and Zeva's bedrolls when she turned to him, a serious look on her face. The Warden Commander inwardly groaned, knowing the moment he had avoided for so long had finally arrived.
"We are properly alone now, as you requested when we were in the Deep Roads. I think it is time that you tell me what the 'Calling' that Kardol spoke of is all about, don't you?" Zeva asked quietly.
Duncan had spent hours during their travels playing this conversation in his mind and coming up with the right way to tell Zeva what she could expect as a member of the Grey Wardens. Now that the moment had arrived, he prayed his preparation wouldn't be in vain.
"Of course," he began softly. "You have experienced some of the more obvious side-effects of drinking darkspawn blood – increased appetite, improved healing capabilities, and the nightmares, of course. However, there is another consequence of becoming what we are that has not been shared with you; and that is the Calling."
"Alright," Zeva replied carefully. "And what does this Calling entail?"
As he opened his mouth to speak, Duncan could feel his chest tightening painfully. "Darkspawn blood is a poison; a toxin to the drinker's body," he continued. "You know this. While we are able to master the initial taint that would kill most men and women, we are not immune forever. The blood slowly works on us the same as it would any other creature, and all Wardens fall to its effects in the end."
Drawing in a breath, Duncan took Zeva's hands in his before he returned to his explanation. "Though none of the Wardens can tell why it is so," he said softly, "all of us who ingest the darkspawn blood have thirty years, give or take, to live before it will corrupt us the same way that it does everyone else who may come in contact with it."
Zeva's slight intake of breath was the only indication she gave as to the effect his words had on her. Duncan had expected an immediate explosion of emotions, and he had prepared for that. This reaction, for some reason, frightened him far more than if she had reached across and stabbed him with her dagger.
"Let me make sure I understand," she began calmly. "From the moment I drank from the chalice at Ostagar, the darkspawn blood has been slowly killing me; and it will continue to do so for the next thirty years, give or take." At Duncan's nod, she continued. "Have the Wardens any record of what happens when this time runs out? And why, if I may ask, did the Legion of the Dead know of this condition, if it is such a closely guarded Grey Warden secret?"
"Those two answers are connected, actually," Duncan replied, amazed at the logical way in which Zeva was handling the normally devastating news. "You have experienced first-hand the nightmares that come with drinking darkspawn blood. Over time, once the Blight is conquered, those nightmares will fade for you, as they do with most Wardens. Some never lose them, but that is a rare occurrence. As a Warden reaches the time of his or her Calling, however, the nightmares once again return; and they are far worse than before. Over time, the dreams progress to the point where all Wardens realize that the end of their life is near. Most travel to Orzammar, choosing to die battling the darkspawn in the Deep Roads. The dwarves know of this practice, and they greatly respect us for it. That is how Kardol and his men knew of the Calling."
Duncan watched closely as Zeva's gaze fell to the blanket covering her. He remained silent; waiting for the barrage of questions that he assumed would follow her moment of contemplation. When her gaze once again met his, he could see the tears forming in her eyes and his heart clenched painfully in his chest.
"How long have you been a Warden, Duncan?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper in the silent tent.
This was the part of the conversation that he had been avoiding for so long, and he felt his own eyes began to water as he answered. "For many more years than you, my darling," he replied softly, reaching up to wipe the first tears that escaped her beautiful blue eyes.
"And your Calling – how much time do you estimate you have before you will travel to Orzammar to join the Legion in their fight against the darkspawn?" she asked, her breath now coming in slight gasps as she spoke.
His own tears slowly ran down his face as he saw the pain his beloved was fighting so hard to hide. "I had experienced some nightmares before the first of the darkspawn sightings," he answered truthfully. "However, I do not know if those were the nightmares that we are told of in the history tomes. The Blight has, of course, made them far worse than they should be; the same as with all Wardens during the time of an Archdemon. However, if I go by the time I first joined the Wardens, I have two years left, give or take, before my Calling."
Duncan reached toward Zeva to pull her into his arms, but she shook her head; holding her hands in front of her to keep him at bay. "Is this why you tried to separate yourself from me when we were reunited in Redcliffe?" she asked, her tears flowing freely down her face.
"It was one of the reasons," Duncan answered, desperate to hold her; to take some of the anguish from her shaking frame. "I told you that I didn't want you to have to relive the pain you felt when your parents died, should the same fate befall me. However, that included the trials we would face during the Blight, as well; not just the Calling. I know how many dangers await us, and I wanted to protect you from any unnecessary grief. I suppose I have failed miserably in that respect, haven't I?" he added quietly, his eyes downcast.
The strike came so quickly that Duncan had no time to respond. One moment he was sitting upright and the next he was flat on his back; his left cheek throbbing painfully. "You idiot!" Zeva cried, her voice regaining much of its strength. "Don't you realize it was already too late to save me by the time we met in that Chantry? I loved you from the moment I met you in my father's home, and no amount of distance was going to change that! We wasted months of our short time together because you tried to protect me from a fate that you didn't even have the courtesy to share with me!"
"Zeva, I…" Duncan began, his voice trailing off when she shook her head furiously at him.
"NO! You will let me finish or I swear I will blacken the other eye, as well!" she yelled. Her voice was now carrying outside the tent and Wynne and Zevran glanced nervously at each other before continuing their patrol of the surrounding forest. "If there are any other Warden secrets you haven't told me, you had best be prepared to share them. Because from this moment on, I expect you to treat me as a complete equal, do you hear me? I will not be some 'delicate flower' that you coddle in an effort to make yourself feel more in control!"
Duncan nodded silently in agreement; knowing that she was not yet ready to allow him to speak.
"Good," she said gently, leaning over and taking his face in her hands. "Now you will listen to me, Duncan. Whether we have two years or two months left of our time together, it does not matter. The only thing that matters is that we are together now, and that I love you with everything that I am. We will face this Blight together. And when the time of your Calling does arrive, we will face that together, as well. Have I made myself completely clear?"
"Yes, my love," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Zeva and pushing her onto the bedroll; climbing atop her. "Maker, I want you…"
Duncan crushed his lips to Zeva's, tasting the salt from the tears she had shed. As he pulled back and gazed into her eyes, he knew he had never loved her more than in this moment. His greatest fear had been that she would turn and walk away after learning of the curse that would take his life all too soon. Now he knew the true extent of his own ignorance. There was no other woman like Zeva; one who would stand at his side despite all odds being stacked against them. No matter what it took, he would make sure that the time they had left would be filled with love - for her sake.
Zeva's hands travelled slowly down his back, sensually massaging his muscles. Duncan growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling the soft scent of Andraste's Grace that lingered there. He stilled as she slid her hands onto his buttocks; urging him to enter her.
"No," he murmured softly into her ear. "Not yet. Tonight is for you, my beloved Zeva. It is my chance to worship you as you deserve. I fully intend to hear you scream my name into the darkness before I join with you."
Rising onto his elbows, Duncan unlaced the front of Zeva's sleeping gown; slowly pulling it apart to reveal her breasts to his sight. "You are exquisite, my love," he whispered, lowering his lips onto her full mound and sucking gently; flicking his tongue over her pert nipple. Zeva arched her back, bringing her chest closer to his face.
"Yes, Duncan," she moaned quietly. "More… please…"
Spurred on by his lover's pleas, the commander continued his ardent attention to Zeva's breasts while sliding his fingers down her stomach. He gently parted her warm, moist lips and thrust several fingers deep inside her; angling them toward her most sensitive spot.
Zeva quickly reached the peak of her passion, and she grasped firmly onto Duncan's shoulders; calling out his name as her body trembled beneath him. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she gazed up into his eyes; a wicked smile curving her lips.
"What naughty thoughts are crossing that beautiful mind of yours, my darling?" Duncan asked slyly. "That smile is positively impish."
"Why tell you about them when I can show you, instead?" she replied mischievously. Wrapping her leg around his waist, she pushed up with her hips; reversing their positions on the bedroll. Carefully straddling Duncan's thighs, Zeva reached between her legs; moistening her fingers with her release. Duncan's breath caught in his throat as she leaned forward and wrapped her hand around his throbbing erection; stroking him purposefully while running the fingers of her free hand through the hair on his stomach.
"Maker, Zeva!" Duncan moaned, his hands clutching the sides of the bedroll tightly. "The feeling… please… I need to be with you!"
Continuing the sweet torture of her hand, Zeva slid up Duncan's legs and positioned him beneath her opening. "I love you, Duncan," she purred as she slid down over him, balancing on her knees while rolling her hips in a steady rhythm.
Duncan grasped Zeva's waist, thrusting up to meet her each time she slid down over him. As his pleasure grew he sat up, clutching her to his chest and taking possession of her lips. In the final moments of their lovemaking, Duncan broke the kiss; watching enraptured as Zeva climaxed once more, taking him over the edge with her…
Not long after, Zeva lay in the dark; staring at the tent ceiling and listening to Duncan's steady breathing. She had remained strong for him as he explained about the Calling; but as the night wore on, she knew she needed to release some of the pain she was feeling. Wanting to keep her sorrow from the man she loved, she quietly rose from the bed, donned a light cloak and slid out of the tent; vanishing into the night.
o~~~~~~~~o
Zevran noticed the blush rise on Wynne's cheeks as they heard the cry that came from the Wardens' tent. His heart sank as he remembered bringing Zeva to a similar moment of ecstasy; and he longed to be the man she turned to when she was filled with desire and need.
As he sat staring at Duncan and Zeva's tent, sorting through his feelings with regards to the beautiful woman that resided within it, he saw a shadowy figure slip through the flap and move quickly into the forest. He rose to follow when he heard Wynne's voice behind him; her matronly tone grating instantly on his nerves.
"Don't you think it is time you step aside gracefully and let them deal with their relationship without interference?" she asked quietly. She stepped back when the assassin turned to her, his eyes cold as ice.
"I will say this only once, mage," Zevran said in a tone Wynne had never heard him use before; even with Duncan. "Zeva may have chosen Duncan as her lover, and she may even believe that she loves him. However, he will never understand her as I do; no matter how long they are together. No one will ever keep me away from her, and those who try will find themselves regretting that choice of action. This I promise you." Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed into the thick trees; following the trail of Zeva's footprints.
o~~~~~~~~o
Zevran followed the sound of a nearby brook and wasn't the least bit surprised to see Zeva sitting on its bank, her feet dangling in the water. His first thought was to tease her about her obvious obsession with water, but he stopped short when he saw her bury her face in her hands; her shoulders beginning to shake.
Moving cautiously toward Zeva, he knelt behind her and placed his hands gently on her arms. She momentarily tensed before leaning back into his arms and allowing him to embrace her. For the next several minutes Zevran held his beloved Warden in his arms, waiting for a break in her tears to ask what was causing her such pain.
As her tears slowly stopped, Zevran kissed Zeva tenderly on her shoulder. "What has happened, my Zeva?" he whispered in her ear. "I cannot stand to see you this way. Tell me what I can do to make it better and I swear I will. I would do anything to ease your pain."
"I know you would, Zev," she replied, her breath coming in short gasps. "And I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you are with me. Though I would never have dreamed to impose on you, I somehow knew you would find me when I left the camp."
Zevran turned Zeva toward him, pulling her close. "I will always come for you when you need me, my beautiful Zeva," he said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Do not ever doubt that. Now tell me what has happened to make you so upset. If Duncan has done this to you, he will answer to me. I swear he will."
Shaking her head slowly, Zeva's eyes filled with fresh tears. "Duncan hasn't done anything wrong, Zev," she explained softly. "The pain I feel comes from what is happening to him, not to me."
Zevran's face showed the confusion he now felt. Morrigan's words regarding the strength Duncan's love would bring to his Warden suddenly returned to the assassin and his lips parted in surprise. "If it (love) is lasting, perhaps. Sadly, this one is not. I would wish to spare her the pain that will come all too soon, if I am able."
"Oh, Zeva," he said, his tone filled with worry, "this is about the Calling, isn't it? What is it and what has it done to you?"
"I cannot tell you about the ritual that makes a candidate a Warden," Zeva began. "I was sworn to secrecy when I joined. However, I can tell you that the process is a slow-acting death sentence for all who survive it. From the moment of our joining, Grey Wardens have approximately thirty years to live before the taint destroys us. The Calling refers to the time when a Warden realizes their life is coming to an end. Most travel to Orzammar to die fighting the darkspawn. That is why the dwarves have knowledge of this particular Warden secret."
Despite his best efforts to control it, Zevran's eyes reflected the fury that was in his heart. "Duncan knew this ritual would kill you, and yet he allowed it to continue?" he spat through clenched teeth. "What kind of monster is he?"
"Zevran, please listen to me," Zeva pleaded, gently caressing his face. "I have thirty years before I need ever worry about the Calling. It's Duncan who doesn't!"
Her words cut instantly through his anger, and realization dawned in his eyes. "My darling Zeva, I am so sorry," he began, shaking his head sadly. "I didn't think before I spoke. I was just so furious that he would allow you to sacrifice your life for his cause."
Pulling her tighter into his arms, Zevran gazed into Zeva's eyes and asked the question that would determine the course of his life, as well as hers. "How long does Duncan have before this Calling takes him from you?" And gives you to me…
"Two years," she choked out as her sobbing began anew. Zevran pulled her close, resting her head on his chest. His shirt was soon drenched with her tears, and he was glad she couldn't see the ones that escaped his own eyes as he shared her pain.
Zeva remained locked in the assassin's arms, desperately needing the comfort only he could provide. As her crying subsided, she looked up into his face and saw, for the first time, the true depth of his feelings for her. "I can't do this," she said suddenly and rose from the ground, turning to leave. "It isn't fair to you."
Before she could take two steps, Zevran was upon her; grabbing her arm and turning her round to face him. Zeva's eyes widened as she saw the anger in his gaze. "Don't presume to tell me what is and is not fair to me, Zeva!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I know you have chosen Duncan and I will abide by your decision. What I will not do is allow you to push me out of your life! You need me! I can see it in your eyes whenever you look at me."
Zeva's heart began to flutter as the assassin drew her closer. "And I need you, my beautiful Zeva," he said, his voice softening. "Never forget that." Before she could reply, he brought his lips to hers; his kiss tender and full of emotion. As she somehow knew she always would, Zeva melted into his arms; running her fingers through his golden hair as she deepened the kiss. At last their lips parted and Zevran smiled, knowing that a part of his dearest Warden would always belong to him alone. And when Duncan's Calling finally arrived, he would be the man to whom Zeva would turn for comfort – no one else.
"Now," he began gently, wiping away the last remnants of her tears. "I suggest we get you back to your Warden Commander before he comes looking for you. You are a determined woman, Zeva, and I know you will insist on maintaining a brave front for Duncan as you come to terms with all you have learned. I expect you to come to me when you need somewhere to show your true feelings. Will you allow me to be your strength?"
"Yes, Zevran," she replied, smiling warmly at the assassin. "Always. It appears that I owe you yet again for saving me from myself. I can't help but wonder why you continue to put up with me."
Taking her by the hand, Zevran led her back toward the campsite. "It's the Dalish armor, my darling Warden," he stated, chuckling deviously. "I simply can't resist it."
o~~~~~~~~o
Reginald Hastings closed the door to his bedroom and poured himself a glass of brandy before retiring to the chair in front of his fireplace. He was bone weary from another day of dealing with his increasingly unstable master.
In retrospect, it had been a good afternoon. Only one man died when Arl Rendon Howe was given the news about Zeva Cousland's relationship with Bann Teagan of Rainesfere; though several more underwent hours of torture to help pacify Howe's anger. The more he thought of the lovely female Warden, the more convinced Reginald was that she was intentionally provoking Howe to the point of madness with her ever-increasing list of lovers.
Not that such a thing would be a monumental task, given Howe's history. He had always been a man of extreme emotions; a fact to which his wife and children could certainly attest. His marriage had always been volatile, often due to Howe's rather unusual sexual demands. His three children were raised under the strictest of rules and each was punished with a birch rod whenever they stepped out of line. Reginald had been in Howe's service for many years, and over time he had learned how to handle his master's emotional swings with ease.
Everything changed, however, when Howe set his sights on the Cousland girl. He moved out of his marital bedroom, refusing to even dine with his wife. His new personal suite was always kept locked; no doubt in an attempt to keep nosy servants from discovering the shrine he built to his new love. Only Reginald had a key, and he selected two devoted members of the staff to keep the rooms cleaned and the linens changed.
In the last year, Howe's wife perished in a rather unfortunate horseback riding 'accident', and Delilah and Thomas were sent to live with family friends in Starkhaven. Nathaniel was never informed of his mother's death. Reginald was positive that was to insure he would not return to Ferelden and once more seek the hand of his father's chosen bride.
Though the palace in Denerim had been the scene of many a nightmare in the months since the attack on Highever, Reginald could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel. If Arl Howe could enlist the aid of the Arlessa of Redcliffe, Lady Zeva Cousland would finally be returned to her place at his master's side; and Reginald could finally get a peaceful night's sleep…
Looks like tonight is out, however, Reginald thought as a loud banging on his bedroom door roused him from his spot in front of the fireplace. "What is it?" he asked angrily as he jerked open the door. On the other side stood Hamlin, one of Arl Howe's porters and a mouse of a man.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Ser Reginald, but there is a woman at the front gate who seeks entrance into the castle," Hamlin said, his voice quivering slightly. The man was a new addition to the household, and he hadn't gotten used to the more unusual goings-on as of yet.
"Did she say who she was?" Reginald asked, sure he would receive a negative reply.
Hamlin nodded enthusiastically, obviously thrilled to be able to please his new superior. "Yes, Ser," he said, confidence filling his voice. "I told her it was late and she would have to come back tomorrow; as the Arl has retired for the evening."
You mean the crazy bastard is once more pleasuring himself in front of the nude statue he commissioned of Zeva Cousland, Reginald thought, rolling his eyes at the young man's naïveté. "And what was her answer, Hamlin?" he asked grumpily, his patience with the hireling at its end.
"She claims she is the Arlessa of Redcliffe, Ser," he replied. "Should I send her away?"
Reginald cuffed the porter hard on the side of the head, making him jump back several feet. "Maker, Hamlin!" he cried, rushing back into his room to grab his overcoat. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? Let her inside now and show her to the drawing room. Make sure to get her a decent drink, as well! I will go and get the Arl and we will be down shortly!"
Without waiting for Hamlin to respond, Reginald tore down the hallway; only slowing down when he neared his master's quarters. Trying to ignore the muffled sounds coming from within, he softly knocked on the door.
A loud scuffling rose from behind the door, followed by a string of extremely obscene curses. After several minutes, the door opened and Howe stood glaring at Reginald; wearing only his nightshirt.
"You are walking a very thin line, Reginald," Howe spat. "You know I am never to be interrupted once I enter my quarters for the evening. There had better be a good reason for this intrusion or you may find yourself joining our 'guests' in the lower quarters."
Reginald shivered, remembering the cages where Howe's 'guests' currently resided. "I cannot apologize enough, Ser," Reginald began, bowing low to his master. He regretted that decision immediately, as it gave him an opportunity to see Howe's current physical condition. "It appears that you have a guest waiting in the drawing room."
"Guest!" Howe cried. "Who in the Maker's name would come here this late at night?"
"It's the Arlessa of Redcliffe, my Arl," Reginald replied quietly. "I would imagine she wishes to speak to you about Lady Zeva."
"Really?" Howe said, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Then let's not keep the Arlessa waiting long. Please tell her I will be down shortly. I have some unfinished business to attend to first." Without another word, he slammed the door in Reginald's face, and the administrator heard the lock click into place. Reginald turned and rushed down the hall, wishing to avoid any further auditory reminders of his master's depravity.
o~~~~~~~~o
Ser Perth stepped into Arl Eamon's bedroom, smiling at the large party that was gathered within. Dinners were now being served in the salon area of the bedroom so that Eamon wouldn't have to eat alone while he was in recovery. Joining the Arl for this particular meal was Teagan, Alistair, Fergus, Leliana and a surprise to all, Sten. The qunari had come to greatly respect Zeva's brother, and they often trained together during the day. Morrigan chose to avoid the entire crowd, as none held the least bit of appeal for her.
All eyes turned to the knight as he approached the dining table. "Forgive me for interrupting, Ser," he said, turning his attention to Alistair, "but I thought you would want to know that your companions have been spotted outside the main gates of town. They should arrive in the castle courtyard soon."
"Is Zeva with them?" Fergus asked quickly, his excitement building with each second that passed.
"Yes, Teyrn," Perth replied, a broad smile on his face. "According to the watchtower guards, both the Lady Zeva and the Warden Commander are in attendance. They also spotted the elf and the mage that arrived with Lady Zeva from the Circle. In addition to those they recognized, the guards say there is a dwarf walking with the party."
"Another stray," Leliana said, laughing jovially. "Zeva simply cannot resist, can she?"
Eamon cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the table. "Well?" he asked, clapping Fergus on the shoulder. "What are you waiting for, man? Go and greet your sister!"
Instantly the table cleared, the entire group heading for the door. "And bring her to me as soon as you release her from the crushing hug I'm sure you have planned!" he called to Fergus. "I have some gratitude to show Zeva, as well, for all she has done for Redcliffe and my family."
o~~~~~~~~o
"Oghren!" Zeva declared loudly as the party crossed over the river into Redcliffe. "Has anyone ever told you how naughty your mind is?"
"No one who makes it sound as good as you, Warden," he replied, laughing raucously. "Would you call me 'naughty' one more time, pretty please? I just love it when you…"
"Zee Zee!" a voice called from the direction of the castle. Zeva froze, her heart leaping into her throat. The man before the gates to the castle proper was waving wildly in her direction; and though she recognized the voice, she was afraid to speak his name for fear he would vanish.
Zevran saw the look of shock on her face and moved closer to her. "Please tell me you see him as well, Zev?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Please."
"The dark haired man at the gates?" Zev asked, his gaze now riveted to the unknown individual. "Yes, I see him."
The returning party gasped collectively as Zeva dropped her pack and dashed across the bridge, throwing herself into the waiting arms of the stranger.
"Fergus," Duncan said softly as he picked up Zeva's belongings and followed her toward the oncoming party. As they met, all eyes turned toward the reunited siblings. Though they couldn't hear what was being said, their joy was clearly evident.
"Zee Zee!" Fergus cried, clutching his sister to his chest and swinging her in a wide circle. "I can't believe it's you! I was so afraid that I would never see you again!" He tried to place her back on the ground, but found that she was unwilling to let go.
"Fergus," she replied, tears streaming from her eyes. "I looked for you all through the Wilds and you were gone! I was sure that something horrible had happened to you!"
Fergus pried her hands from around his neck and cautiously stepped back, needed to see his sister's face to determine if she was alright. "Shh…" he said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's alright, Zee Zee. Please don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry."
"As do we all, Teyrn Cousland," Duncan said softly, standing behind Zeva and placing a hand on her waist. Zeva drew in a deep breath and smiled warmly at her brother, sliding a hand over her beloved's.
"Fergus," she began quietly, the flow of tears slowly subsiding. "This is Duncan. He is my…"
"Grey Warden Commander," Fergus finished for her, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I have heard so much about you, Ser. I think we have much to discuss, you and I."