First let me say how sorry I am that this chapter has taken so long to be released! RL sucks sometimes, doesn't it?
Next a warning! There is some dark material in this chapter! It will continue this way until we begin Awakenings, or kill Howe! You know how it goes!
Lisa - What can I say? My world would be desolate without you! Your support means all to me and I adore you!
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, Nanicane, WitchWeaver,
tgail73, AlexSavard, Constantano, Steve 69, Sharem, Deliciously Weird, Sarkule, Kira Kyuuketsuki, dragonzap93, naomis8329, thnewandrew and turianlover: LOVE YOU! LOVE YOU! LOVE YOU!
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Morrigan jumped, the knock on her bedroom door catching her completely by surprise. She'd been reading the grimoire again; looking over each page in hopes of discovering some way to stop Flemeth's evil plans. The search was hopeless, she knew; but it kept her mind from thoughts of Zeva and her battle with the Witch of the Wilds.
Though she would never admit it aloud, Morrigan had been consumed with worry ever since the Warden and her party had set off on their quest. It was a feeling to which she was completely unfamiliar, and at first she denied the truth of it. When sleep failed to come for two days, she could no longer ignore the facts. Zeva was the only friend she had ever known, and the thought of losing her brought a sharp pain to the young mage's chest.
From the moment she'd met Zeva and her companions in the Warden ruins, Morrigan had known there was something special about the Cousland girl. Her feelings were confirmed when Zeva was introduced to Flemeth.
"She is the one," her mother said when she returned from escorting the Warden out of the Wilds. "We must watch and protect her, Morrigan, for she will change everything one day."
Flemeth had been true to her word, flying into the battle with the darkspawn to rescue Zeva and her fellow Warden from certain death at the top of the tower. Though she feigned surprise, Morrigan had expected to be sent from the camp when the Wardens left. After all, she knew her mother's wishes, didn't she?
The one thing the mage hadn't planned on were the feelings she'd quickly developed for Zeva as they'd travelled together. Now, the same young woman that Morrigan had repeatedly lied to and manipulated was fighting an horrific battle; all to protect her life. The world is indeed full of wonders…
The door to the bedroom opened and a squeamish elf entered, her eyes downcast. Morrigan had made no attempt at civility with any of the castle staff, and they were all terrified of her.
"Milady," the maid said, bowing politely, "Arl Eamon sent me to tell you that the Warden and her companions have been spotted entering the castle grounds. He knew you would want to meet them." Without waiting for a response, the elf turned and sped from the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Morrigan stopped halfway to the door; her hand flying to her chest. Her heart was racing and a broad smile came unbidden to her lips. She eventually resumed her course, her mind racing with possibilities. If Flemeth was indeed dead, she was free.
And Zeva's future was now in her hands alone…
o~~~~~~~~o
Zeva's eyes opened wide as she entered the grand hall of the castle. Across the room, Eamon was moving slowly in her direction. He rested his weight on a cane held in his left hand. She smiled as she hurried toward him, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
"I am so pleased to see you up and about," she said as she pulled away. "Did you have Kinnon arrested and thrown in the dungeon? I imagine that's the only way he would let you out of his sight."
"He tried, but Bann Teagan wouldn't allow it," the mage said as he stepped into the room, his rescuer following close behind him. Teagan's heart leapt when he saw Zeva, and he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms. Patience, Teagan, he thought. Someday Zeva will be yours. And the prize will be well worth the wait…
"Actually," Kinnon began, "the Arl is well on his way to a full recovery. I have given him a list of exercises to be performed twice each day. If he follows my orders and takes the medicine I have prepared, he will be moving fluidly in no time.
In fact," he continued, "I think I should head back to the Circle Tower soon. I am sure First Enchanter Irving is wondering if I will ever return."
Zeva saw the sorrow that darkened Eamon's eyes and her heart broke for him. When Kinnon left, so would Connor. "I have no doubt that you are correct, Kinnon," she said. "You have been nothing short of amazing during the time you have been here, but you should return home to help rebuild the Circle."
Shaking his head slowly, Eamon interrupted. "If that is the case," he said, "I suppose it is time to deal with the matter of the apostate mage. The templars are most anxious to hear my decision."
"Jowan!" Zeva said in shock. She'd completely forgotten about the mage in the midst of everything else that had happened. "He hadn't even crossed my mind. What will you do with him, Eamon?"
"Let's adjourn to my office," he said, shuffling toward the adjacent hallway. "I am still not completely secure on my feet and I think I need to rest a bit. Teagan, please have the soldiers bring the apostate up from the dungeon. It's time that I met him, don't you think?"
"Allow me to help you, Arl Eamon," Duncan said, moving forward and taking the older man's arm. "I think Zeva has something else to attend to before joining us." As he spoke, he inclined his head toward the door. Zeva looked up, her gaze meeting Morrigan's across the room. She smiled gently and approached the mage, her pack in her hand. Zevran followed her, wanting to see the mage's reaction to the tome for himself. The rest of the party followed Duncan and Eamon into his spacious office for the meeting with Jowan.
o~~~~~~~~o
"I see you have returned in one piece," Morrigan said, trying to hide the relief in her voice. Though she was overjoyed to see Zeva alive and well, she had no intention of giving away anything. "I assume this means that Flemeth is dead?"
Zeva dropped her pouch onto the floor, undid the drawstring and pulled a large, black, leather-bound book from inside. She held it to Morrigan. "It is finished," she said softly, "and this is now yours."
Morrigan took the grimoire carefully and ran her fingertips over the worn cover. "Yes," she began, "this is the one mother always used. I remember watching her write in it when I was only a small child." Still gently stroking the tome, she looked up at Zeva. "I don't know quite what to say," she continued. "I have never been one to give thanks to anyone, and yet you have given me control over my own destiny. I am sure Flemeth isn't gone for good – she is far too powerful for that – but with this book I have a chance to build a proper defense against whatever she will have in store for me."
Zeva saw the blush that slowly crept up the mage's cheeks and smiled. "I owe you my life and my freedom, Zeva," she said quietly. "And I will do whatever I can to repay that debt to you. I swear it." In an unprecedented move, the mage stepped forward and wrapped her free arm around Zeva's waist, pulling her into a tight hug.
She stared at Zevran over Zeva's shoulder as she continued speaking. "We still have much to do," she said, "and there is much danger that comes along with our tasks. I will never let anyone harm you." Zevran knew her comment was aimed at him and glared furiously back at her. "Not anyone."
As he watched the two women embrace, the elven assassin wondered if one of the dangers to Zeva that Flemeth spoke of during their battle wasn't standing right before him; her arm around his beloved Warden.
o~~~~~~~~o
"So," Eamon said when at last the would-be assassin was brought into his office; his hands bound tightly to prevent any use of his magic, "you are the one who nearly destroyed my entire family and the people of my village. Somehow I imagined you would appear more formidable."
Jowan's head was bowed, his limbs visibly shaking. He'd known he would eventually have to face the man whose life he had chosen to take, and the thought of it terrified him each day of his incarceration. Now that he stood before Eamon, he found himself unable to speak a single word.
Eamon temporarily turned his attention to the office door as Zeva, Zevran and Morrigan entered. When they had taken seats with their companions, he once more looked at the shivering apostate. "The templars are most anxious to return you to the Circle to face punishment for your crimes there," he explained. "However, there are those here in Redcliffe who would like nothing more than to watch you hung in the center of the village square for all to see. All are looking to me to decide your sentence. Though I may have the right to do so, I don't believe I am unbiased enough for a proper judgment. Therefore, I leave your fate in the hands of the woman who was forced to correct the countless mistakes you have made."
Turning to Zeva, he nodded somberly. "The decision is yours, Zeva," he said quietly. "What would you have me do with this murderer?"
Zeva sat silently for several minutes, her gaze travelling from the Arl to the mage who had caused such pain to so many. She weighed the cost of Jowan's actions both at the Circle Tower and in the small town below them before speaking. When she'd made a decision, she rose from her chair and approached the prisoner.
"You caused the deaths of so many in Redcliffe, Jowan," she began. Much to her surprise, the mage looked up and met her gaze, nodding slowly. "I understand the need to avenge those lost lives, believe me. However, I think your true judges reside in the Tower on Lake Calenhad. Therefore, I will send you back to the Circle with the templars. Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving can see that you receive the punishment you deserve."
She looked at Eamon, hoping that he would agree with her decision. After many moments of heavy silence, he nodded; a grim smile curving his lips. "It will be as you wish, Zeva," he declared. Eamon waved his hand and Ser Perth stepped forward, once more taking possession of the apostate. As he was pushed through the office door, Jowan turned and glanced at Zeva.
"Thank you for your kindness, Warden," he said softly. "For what little it's worth, I am truly sorry for all that has happened. I wish you the best in your fight against the Blight. There will be many more deaths if the darkspawn aren't stopped." With that, he allowed Perth to lead him into the hallway.
"I hope I didn't overstep my bounds, Eamon," Zeva said as she took a seat across from him at his desk. "I truly think that was the best solution."
"As I said, Zeva," Eamon replied, his voice filled with sadness. "I was far too closely involved to make a judgment. I can hardly complain about your decision when I left it up to you, can I?"
Kinnon stepped forward and passed Eamon a vial of dark blue liquid. "It's time for you to rest, Arl," he said sternly. "You can make more life-altering decisions in the morning."
"You know," Eamon replied, "I don't think I will miss you much, mage." Though his words were harsh, the glitter in his eyes showed his mirth.
"I disagree, Milord," Kinnon retorted as he helped the Arl up from his chair and moved them into the hall. "I think you will miss me very much. After all, who else here will take all the abuse that I do without complaint?"
Zeva couldn't help but laugh as she heard Eamon's parting comment. "Why, Teagan, of course…"
Teagan stepped forward, shaking his head. "Maybe I should offer the mage a permanent position," he commented. "He would save me a great deal of irritation, I don't doubt." Looking down at Zeva, he continued, "Eamon didn't get a chance to mention this, but he wishes to throw a formal dinner for you and your companions before you leave to retrieve your final treaty. It's his way of thanking you for all you have done for Redcliffe."
"I don't want to put him to any trouble, Teagan," she said, rising from her chair. "He's only just begun to recover."
"Yes, well, I would normally agree with you," he replied. "However, I think there is something else at play here. Eamon has lost so much over the past several months – first Isolde and now Connor. I think he needs this to begin to feel normal again." Taking her hand in his own, Teagan ignored the vicious glares that came from the Wardens' party. "Please tell me you will agree to it. For Eamon."
"Of course we will," Zeva said, squeezing his hand lightly. "I'm afraid I don't really have much to wear, so it may be more casual than he is used to."
"No need to fret, my darling," Duncan said, stepping forward and taking Zeva's arm in his; effectively breaking Teagan's grip on his lover. "I think we can arrange for something." Thoughts of the sapphire gown filled his mind and he was suddenly quite anxious to get back to their room.
"Speaking of Isolde," Leliana said from her seat across the room. "Has Eamon heard anything from her?"
Teagan shook his head sadly. "Not one word," he replied. "Not that I am sorry about it. She almost destroyed everything with her lies, and I would be thrilled if Eamon never had to see her again. That woman is poison."
"Something we can actually agree on," Duncan said. "Now, I suggest we all get some sleep. We have plans to make tomorrow."
The party disbanded for the night; each one thinking of the upcoming dinner in their own way. Fighting would resume soon enough, and a night of revelry before battle was needed by all.
o~~~~~~~~o
Isolde's eyes opened slowly, her back aching from the thin cot on which she slept. For the briefest of moments, she thought she was back in Redcliffe and called to her husband. When no answer was forthcoming, she remembered her current situation and sank to the floor; releasing an agonizing cry of pain and anguish.
"Maker, not this again!" her guard said as he stepped into the room, a small bundle in his hands. "Do you ever quit blubbering?" He approached the cell and threw the parcel between the bars. It hit Isolde in the head and bounced onto the floor.
"A present, Milady," he said sardonically, bowing in mock respect. "You have been ordered to clean up and change into the clothes in that package. You are having visitors today." Before Isolde had a chance to speak, the guard turned and left the room; the door slamming shut behind him.
Isolde continued crying and opened the parcel. As she changed her clothes, she reflected on the road of horror she had travelled over the last several weeks…
It all started on the night of her meeting with Arl Howe. She was blissfully happy when she left his home. Howe seemed determined to get his hands on Zeva Cousland and Isolde was only too happy to oblige him.
She was only a few streets from her estate when she was accosted by several soldiers in dark armor. They'd demanded that she follow them 'for her own safety', as there was a dangerous criminal on the loose in the vicinity. When she suggested that they escort her home, they stated that the situation was far too volatile and ushered her into a nearby warehouse.
Thus began Isolde's journey into darkness. The atrocities committed against her in that cursed building haunted her every dream; and no amount of washing could remove the stains left on her soul. When the monsters had their fill of her, they'd wrapped her in a dirty rug and carried her through the streets; a bloody rag stuffed in her mouth to keep her from crying out.
Her captors threw her into a stone cell and walked away; comparing stories of their time with her as they exited the darkened dungeon. When she was finally able to move, she'd crawled to the iron bars and begun screaming for help. Her attempts proved futile, however, and she lost her voice many hours before anyone arrived.
The elven servant sent to care for her each morning never spoke a word as she completed her daily tasks. Each time she visited, Isolde attempted to gain information on the identity of her jailor. Sweet cajoling and vicious threats meant nothing to the stubborn maid, however. She refused to even acknowledge her charge.
One of the guards that accompanied the servant eventually opened the elf's mouth and Isolde discovered the reason for her silence. Her tongue had been removed. According to the guard, the girl had been told that her eyes and ears would follow her voice if she dared to communicate with the prisoner. The callous laughter that accompanied Isolde's sobbing rang in her ears each time she slept for days.
The days began to slip one into another, and Isolde had no knowledge of how long she'd been held in the rat-infested cell. Her only connection to the outside world was in the form of a letter she'd been forced to write to her estate administrator. In it she told him of her plans to travel abroad for some much needed rest. She'd refused to pen the missive at first; but when she was reminded of the time she'd spent with her 'rescuers' and told how easy it would be to arrange another gathering, she'd submitted.
Now it looked as though she would finally get the answers that she so desperately needed. She sat on the bed, her servant's rags wrapped tightly around her. She still had some pride left; and when she finally faced her captor, it would be with her head held high.
By the time the guard returned, Isolde had built up enough courage to react to his presence. She reached onto a nearby table and flung a water goblet at him, breaking the clay on his head.
"You bastard!" she cried angrily. "You will tell me where I am and who the monster is that has kidnapped me! I am the Arlessa of Redcliffe, and I have many influential friends in this city! One of those is the Arl of Denerim, himself! When he learns what you have done to me…"
Her tirade was cut short by the laughter that echoed off of the stone walls. The guard opened the door to the outer dungeon and called down the hallway, "Edmonds, you have to come and hear this!"
The sound of heavy footsteps rang through the dungeon. A second guard appeared in the door, a curious smile on his face. "This better be good, Thomas," he said. "I was headed upstairs to visit our little elven friend. She can't really scream anymore, now can she?"
"Oh, it's good," Thomas said, still chuckling darkly. "The prisoner just demanded that I tell her the name of our master. Apparently she has friends in important circles – like the Arl of Denerim! He will apparently kill us all when he discovers that we have her!"
Now it was Edmonds' turn to laugh. He walked over to Isolde's cell and placed both hands on the bars; his foul breath wafting toward her as he eyed her carefully.
"I wouldn't count on that rescue if I were you, bitch," he said, his voice dripping with hatred. "After all, if the Arl of Denerim wanted you freed, he could just walk down the stairs and open your cage."
Isolde tilted her head in confusion. I don't understand, she thought. Just walk down the stairs and let me out? Does he know these beasts?
"Check out the blank look on her face, Thomas," Edmonds said, inclining his head in her direction. "Her only saving grace is obviously between her legs."
"Now don't be cruel," Thomas said sarcastically. "I seem to recall her mouth being quite useful, as well." Isolde gasped, staring at her captors. So they were some of the ones who…
Reaching through the bars, Edmonds grabbed the front of Isolde's dress and began pulling her toward him. She struggled to escape, and was rewarded for her efforts by having her head smashed into the bars. "Fight me again and you'll get more than a bruised forehead," the guard warned. His voice held a cruel edge as he continued. "Let me explain it to you in a way that you will understand. That little party that you attended in the warehouse? The Arl of Denerim was the one who arranged it. He's the one holding you now and if you want to continue to survive, you will do everything he says."
His words tumbled through her head; a refrain of terror from which she was afraid she might never recover. Howe – her abductor? No! It simply wasn't possible!
"You lie!" she spat furiously. "I agreed to help Arl Rendon Howe capture the traitorous Warden, Zeva Cousland! He wouldn't betray me when I am his best hope of revenge against her!"
"And still you do not see the truth." The door to the dungeon opened and Rendon Howe stepped inside, a vicious snarl curving his lips. Isolde's mouth dropped open and she slumped against the bars. Edmonds released his hold on her dress and she fell to the floor; gazing up at Howe in shock.
"Good day, Arlessa Guerrin," Howe said as he stepped up to her cage and stopped. "I see you changed into the clothes I sent. Good. Servants' garbs are extremely appropriate for you, if you want my opinion."
"You… you… why?" Isolde stammered as she struggled to her feet. She backed away from the cell door and sat down on the small cot that had become her bed.
Howe turned toward the door as his guards entered; carrying a small desk and an elaborate leather chair. They placed the chair behind their master and he calmly sat down on it. Edmonds opened the cell door and Thomas carried the desk inside, placing it before Isolde. Without a word, the two men bowed politely to Howe and exited the dungeon.
"It's perfectly simple, Isolde," Howe began, his arms crossed over his chest. "I invited you into my home in hopes that you might help me retrieve that which is most precious in this world to me. I offered you friendship and protection in your time of need. And how do you repay me? You call my beloved Zeva a whore! Surely you realize that such an insult cannot be allowed to remain unanswered?"
His beloved Zeva? Isolde thought, her mind racing to grasp the implications of the Arl's statement. She gazed into his eyes and saw the madness that resided there. Maker, why didn't I realize it when I had the chance?
Isolde began rubbing her fingertips on her temples in an effort to staunch the headache that was beginning to develop behind her eyes. She shook her head numbly as she watched Howe.
"So you told your men to..?" She couldn't complete the question. Speaking of her ordeal would make it all too real. "What kind of man does something like that?"
Howe simply smiled and sat deeper into his chair. "Any man would defend the honor of his love if he is worthy of her," he replied quietly. "I suppose we know who the true whore is now, don't we? No doubt Eamon would be devastated to learn of all of your new friends.
Oh, wait!" Howe continued. "I may be wrong about that. After all, he has cast you out of your home, hasn't he? And my men tell me that no inquiries have come from Redcliffe as to your current condition. I would say that you have been erased from the memories of all in the castle – your son, included."
A primal scream of fury erupted from Isolde as she flung herself at the bars. "I will see you hung for what you have done to me, you bastard!" she yelled. "You and that worthless piece of filth that you call a lover!"
Howe's fingernails drew blood in his palms as he tried to control his anger. He needed Isolde if he wanted to be reunited with Zeva, and that was the only thing keeping her alive. She would pay for her hateful words, however. She would pay dearly...
For now, there were more pressing matters to attend to.
"If you are quite done," Howe said, his voice chillingly calm, "there is something that I need you to do for me."
"You really are mad, aren't you?" she replied. "I won't do anything for you, Howe. You will just have to find someone else to help you get your precious Zeva back."
Howe laughed, and the sound made Isolde's skin crawl. "You assume that you have a choice, Isolde," he said dryly. Turning toward the door, he called to Edmonds. The guard entered the room, a wicked smile on his face.
"The prisoner is refusing to help me bring your future Arlessa home," Howe explained, and Edmonds' smile grew. "I suggest that you show her what happens when orders aren't properly followed in this estate."
Isolde backed up further onto the bed as the guard approached. She'd been so furious with Howe that she hadn't taken the consequences of her actions into account. Edmonds' arrival brought it all back to her mind with a vengeance.
The Arlessa squealed as she was pulled from the bed and thrust painfully into the chair at the writing desk. "I… wait… we can talk about this!" she cried out as she struggled in vain against Edmonds' steady grip.
The guard secured her to the chair with ropes and pulled a sharpened dagger from a sheath on his belt. Grabbing her hand, he laid it flat on the table before her. Without a word, he glanced up at his master; awaiting his instructions.
"The left hand, please, Edmonds," Howe said calmly. "The Arlessa writes with her right hand, and we still need that one."
Nodding slowly, the guard released the hand he was holding and grabbed the proper one. Placing it on the table, he brought his dagger down and laid it across Isolde's fingers. "How many, Milord?" he asked as he glanced up at Howe.
The panic in Isolde's eyes brought a smile to the Arl's face. "All of them, Edmonds," he ordered. After several tense seconds, he continued. "Unless Isolde would care to change her mind and cooperate with our plans."
"Yes!" Isolde cried, tears sliding down her face. "I'll do it! I'll do whatever you say! Please!" The seconds seemed like hours as she waited for Howe's answer.
"You're dismissed, Edmonds, with my thanks," the Arl said. The guard left Isolde's cell and exited the room. Howe sat for several seconds, watching Isolde sob in relief. When she'd finally regained some control of her emotions, she looked up at her captor in defeat.
"What would you have me do?" she asked shakily.
"You told me that Fergus Cousland is in Redcliffe with his sister, correct?" Howe asked.
Isolde nodded quickly. "Yes," she answered. "He was recovering from injuries sustained at Ostagar when I was forced to leave."
"Good," Howe replied. "This letter needs to be addressed to him. There is a traitor in Zeva's group of companions, and I wish to inform my beloved of his existence. The sooner the assassin is removed from her side, the better I will feel."
Isolde sniffled quietly as she wrote every word that Howe dictated to her. Once the letter was complete, Edmonds and Thomas untied the Arlessa and retrieved the letter and desk from her cell. Howe rose from his chair and approached the door, never looking back at his prisoner.
"What happens to me now?" Isolde asked, her voice a mere whisper.
Turning back to his prisoner, Howe smiled. "Now you can rest, Arlessa Guerrin," he replied. "I think you will need your strength sooner than you imagine."
As he exited the room, Isolde heard him address his men. "The whore insulted your mistress once again, gentleman," he said. "I give you leave to remind her of the consequences of such actions. Let the others know."
Isolde's screams followed Howe all the way back to the main floor of his estate.
o~~~~~~~~o
"I'm coming with you, Zeva," Fergus demanded as he paced the floor of Eamon's office. The Wardens' party had assembled there, as the rest of the castle was bustling with activity. The servants were dashing around in preparation of the evening's festivities. Eamon was indeed throwing a grand dinner. The entire town had been invited to attend.
Zeva sighed heavily. She'd agreed to allow her brother to attend the meeting in an effort to ease the tension that had grown between them. Too late she realized her mistake. Fergus was the consummate warrior, and Zeva should have realized that he wouldn't want to be left out of the fighting forever, no matter how much she desired to keep him safe.
"No, you aren't," she responded. "The trip to the Brecilian Forest is a Warden mission, and you have only recently recovered from the severe injuries you sustained at Ostagar. I will not have you endangering yourself in something that doesn't concern you."
"Concern me?" Fergus exclaimed, grabbing his sister by the arms and turning her to face him. Leliana noted the way both Zevran and Duncan leaned forward in their chairs and motioned for the men to remain seated. There was nothing to be gained by adding further fuel to the fire with their interference.
"Maker, Zeva!" Fergus continued. "You are my sister! If a battle involves you, it is my concern! And do not even begin to use the 'Warden mission' excuse on me! As you have proven with your rather unusual choice in companions, one does not need to be a Warden in order to participate in their business!" As he spoke, he glanced sharply at Zevran. Zeva noticed the glare and Leliana began shaking her head. This wasn't going to be good…
"Let go of me, Fergus Bryce Cousland!" Zeva yelled, yanking her arms from his grasp. "I have heard enough of your opinions regarding the people in whom I have placed my trust. In fact, I have had just about enough of your opinions, period! The people in this room have given everything in the battle against the darkspawn, and I will not allow you to disrespect them! Have I made myself clear?"
Fergus was momentarily taken aback. This wasn't going the way he had planned at all. He'd only wanted to protect Zeva from harm. He never meant to push her further away with his ill-advised words. Taking a deep breath, he held his hands out before him in supplication.
"I am sorry, Zee Zee," he said softly, his eyes reflecting the truth of his words. "I didn't mean to upset you or to show any disrespect to your companions. I just can't stand the thought of watching you leave again, knowing there is nothing I can do to help you."
The room was silent. The companions glanced at each other cautiously, wondering if the battle of the Couslands had finally run its course. Zeva was the first to break the stalemate, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around her brother's waist; pulling him into a tight embrace that he quickly reciprocated.
"I am sorry as well, Fergus," she said quietly, tears slowly sliding from her eyes onto his tunic. "I know that you are worried about my wellbeing and that you want to guard me as I enter the Brecilian Forest. However, I need you to stay in Redcliffe this one final time."
Pulling back slightly, Fergus gazed into his sister's eyes. "Why, Zee Zee?" he asked. "Is this because you are concerned about my ability to defend myself? If that is the case, Sten can personally vouch for my recovery."
"He is correct, Kadan," Sten interjected, nodding solemnly. "Your brother is indeed one of the finest warriors that I have encountered in my travels. Far stronger than the other Warden." As he spoke, he turned his disdainful gaze at Alistair. The young Warden responded with a rude gesture that sent Oghren and Zevran into fits of laughter.
Zeva smiled at her companions before returning her attention to her brother. "It's not you that I am concerned with right now, Fergus," she said quietly. "To be completely honest, I am worried about Eamon. Now that he has begun to contact the nobles about a possible Landsmeet, Loghain has surely discovered that his plan to kill the Arl has failed." Pulling away from his embrace, she shook her head sadly.
"Loghain in insane, Fergus," she continued. "He will stop at nothing to keep the throne for himself. And Redcliffe is still fragile from the demonic attacks. Eamon needs every able-bodied man available to insure that the new Regent doesn't succeed in an open assault on his lands. Teagan is an extremely capable warrior and strategist, but he will need your guidance should the worst occur while I am away."
Fergus desperately wished that he could argue with his sister; but despite his desire to accompany her, he knew that her reasoning was sound. If Loghain did indeed plan another attack on Eamon or his lands, Teagan would need all the help that he could get.
"Fine," he said sadly, his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. "I see your point, and you are correct. I will remain here and help Teagan and the others to protect Redcliffe. But know this, my sister. This is the last time we will be separated. When the journey to Denerim begins, I will be at your side. Rendon Howe must pay for all he has done, and he will answer to both Couslands. Are we in agreement?"
Zeva approached Fergus and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "We are, my brother," she said quietly, a small smile on her face. "Together we will bring the full measure of Cousland justice down on the monsters who stole everything from us."
Zevran involuntarily shuddered, Flemeth's words once more ringing in his ears. 'You don't think your secret will remain hidden forever, do you?' He knew the day was coming quickly when he would have to face his part in the attack on Highever. When the time came, would he survive the pain he knew he would see in his beloved Zeva's eyes?
"Then it's settled," Duncan said, rising from his chair and approaching the siblings. "We leave the day after tomorrow for the Brecilian Forest. That will give us enough time to acquire any needed supplies, and to recuperate from Eamon's banquet. I suggest we all return to our quarters and get ready for the big event. Arl Eamon will be most displeased if we arrive late, I am sure."
As the group disbanded, Leliana grabbed Zeva's hand. "You are coming with me, my dear," she said sweetly, winking at Duncan. "I have a surprise for you."
"More surprises, Leli?" Zeva asked, glancing suspiciously between her lover and the bard. "You two were extremely busy when we were parted, weren't you?"
"You won't know till you follow me, will you?" Leliana replied, gently pulling the Warden toward her rooms; humming softly to herself as they went on their way…
o~~~~~~~~o
"To friends, family and country," Eamon said, raising a toast to the men seated nearest him at the dining table. He'd asked Duncan, Fergus and Teagan to join him early so they could discuss the Landsmeet before the revelry began. As the guests began to filter in from the main salon, the men took their seats at the head of the table and the servants had immediately arrived with wine from Eamon's own vineyard. As he brought the goblet to his lips, Eamon's arm froze and a broad smile broke out on his face.
"Well," he said cheerily, "that is a sight to stir the heart of even the coldest man." His three companions looked up at the incoming guests, their respective heartbeats pounding in their ears.
Leliana and Zeva were gliding across the room toward the table, and all eyes were focused on the pair. The lovely bard was dressed in a deep mahogany dress, her red hair held back by ornate silver pins. Fergus felt his mouth go dry, and fought to avoid showing any emotion. In the weeks since her arrival at Redcliffe, the Teyrn had begun to notice Leliana more than he would ever care to admit. Her kindly manner, when combined with her sharp wit and beautiful face, was a lethal hit to any man's heart; and Fergus was certainly no exception. Though he still mourned the death of his beloved Oriana, he couldn't help but be moved by the bard. Once the Blight was ended, he secretly hoped that he would be able to investigate his newfound feelings in greater detail.
Leliana was invisible to Eamon's remaining two guests, however. Duncan and Teagan were completely focused on the woman they both loved. Zeva wore the silk sapphire gown that Duncan and Leliana had purchased for her in Denerim. As the bard had suggested, it accented each curve of her body as it flowed around her. Her ebony hair was left free to glide over her shoulders, a few stems of Andraste's Grace its only adornment.
Duncan rose slowly and approached his lover, unconsciously reaching down to touch the small box he kept hidden in the pocket of his trousers. It hid the necklace that would complete the ensemble, and he planned on giving it to Zeva after dinner. When he reached her, he placed his shaking hands on her waist and pulled her toward him; kissing her tenderly on her glistening lips.
"You are exquisite, my love," he whispered softly when their lips parted. "If not for our obligation to Eamon, I would take you back to our room this very minute and show you the effect your appearance has on me."
"Oh, trust me, Duncan," Zeva purred. "I can feel the effect it has on you." As she spoke, she leaned further into his embrace, resting her waist on his growing erection. "And I look forward to a full demonstration of your admiration after dinner. For now, I suggest we join Eamon at the table. The sooner we do, the sooner we can retire to our suite."
"You are enjoying my discomfort far too much, my wicked Warden," he growled, a wolfish grin on his face. "I will make you pay for that."
Zeva laughed and brushed past him, her hand 'accidently' rubbing against the front of his trousers. "Promises, promises…" she replied, chuckling as she heard the moan of pleasure that escaped Duncan's lips.
"Ancestors' tits!" Oghren murmured as he watched the exchange between the two Wardens. "I have never been an admirer of human women, but that dress could change my mind!"
Zevran didn't reply. He was watching Zeva's interaction with Duncan; fighting an anger unlike any he'd ever felt before. His meeting with Flemeth had changed his outlook on his current situation; and not entirely for the better. According to the witch, he was the man who was destined to be at Zeva's side when she changed the world. If that was truly the case, why should he be forced to stand back and watch as the unworthy Warden Commander claimed a love that was rightfully his?
No, Zevran! he thought furiously, shaking his head to clear the murderous thoughts. Zeva would never forgive him if he harmed Duncan. It was going to be hard enough to work past the attack on Highever. If he added the death of her lover to his list of sins, he would surely lose his chance to be at her side forever.
His only course of action was patience, no matter how hard it would be for the present.
o~~~~~~~~o
Zevran leaned against the bannister overlooking the reception hall of the castle and watched the dancing couples float across the floor below. Eamon was dancing with Zeva, his steps slow but sure. He couldn't help but smile at the look of joy on her face. She truly adored the eldest Guerrin, and the feeling was clearly mutual.
"She is breathtaking, isn't she?" Zevran immediately tensed as he recognized Duncan's voice. The elf turned, glaring lethally at the Warden Commander as he approached the railing and glanced over at Zeva. "Come now, Zevran, you can answer. It's not as if I don't know how you feel about her."
Turning his attention back to Zeva, the assassin's gaze softened. "I assume Leliana chose that particular gown while you were in Denerim?" he asked. "I have never imagined you to be particularly knowledgeable about the proper fashion for beautiful young women."
"Leliana did choose it, as a matter of fact," Duncan replied. "I need to remember to thank her once again for her excellent taste. Though I think that will have to wait for morning. The rest of my evening is already quite full."
Zevran spun on his heel, his hand dropping to the hilt of the dagger in his belt. "Is there some particular reason you came here, other than to throw your future romantic tryst in my face?" he spat. "If there isn't, I would suggest you leave quickly. I have no patience for you tonight, Warden."
Duncan chuckled, his dark eyes glittering in the low light. "You seem tense, Zevran," he said, the mock concern dripping from his voice. "Such feelings can build up when you are without proper companionship. Perhaps the trip to the Brecilian Forest will be good for you. You can find yourself a lovely Dalish lass to settle down with."
It was Zevran's turn to chuckle. "You would simply love that, wouldn't you?" he said. "It would remove the main obstacle to your future with Zeva." The elf leaned casually against a nearby pillar and folded his arms over his chest. "No. I think I will stay right where I am. You never know when the lovely Zeva will grow tired of playing with old men and decide to follow her true heart."
"You will touch her again over my dead body, assassin!" Duncan declared, his fury now evident to see.
"Funny you should say that," Zevran replied, a wicked smile curving his lips. "That's exactly what I had in mind."
Duncan took a moment to compose himself before replying. "Is that a threat, Arainai?" he asked. "If this is truly your wish, I suggest that we take this conversation outside so there will be no blood staining the floor."
"No need to concern yourself, Warden Commander," Zevran said. "I have no intention of killing you. Your darkspawn taint is taking care of that nicely for me. All I have to do is sit back and wait."
Duncan's mouth slid open in surprise at the elf's comment. "You do know about the Calling, then?" he asked quietly. "I was certain you knew about it when we met the Legion of the Dead in the Deep Roads. I am surprised that you never told Zeva of it. It would have been the perfect opportunity to discredit me."
The assassin chuckled once again. "I had no knowledge of your filthy Warden secrets when we were in Orzammar, Commander," Zevran began. "I'd heard you speak to Alistair of the Calling, but I never knew what it was." He paused for several moments before continuing. "Until recently, that is."
Duncan's gaze immediately flicked to the dance floor below, coming to rest temporarily on Zeva. Zevran nodded, his feeling of superiority seeping into his words. "Don't be so surprised, Duncan," he said. "Do you really think Zeva would keep such an important and painful piece of information from me? The news of your imminent death was devastating to her. So naturally she chose to share her fear and sorrow with the person that she trusts the most."
The Warden Commander had to fight the urge to grab the elf and toss him over the bannister. He stared up at Zevran, the hatred evident in every word he spoke. "I care not for the fact that she shared this information with you, elf," he said through clenched teeth. "Zeva obviously trusts you, though I cannot imagine why that is the case. In the long run, it is of no matter. She is mine now and no one will take her from me – ever! Do you understand me?"
"Of course I understand," Zevran replied calmly. "I wouldn't dream of doing anything to cause Zeva pain, and any separation from you would most definitely harm her."
He stepped closer, gazing steadily into Duncan's eyes. "I want to make one thing perfectly clear, however," he explained. "There will come a day when your Calling takes you back to Orzammar. When that day comes, know that it will be in my arms that Zeva finds comfort. And once I have her again, I will do everything in my power to insure that she forgets that you ever existed. This I swear to you." His threat complete, Zevran passed Duncan and headed down the nearby stairs. The Warden Commander soon followed, wanting to keep the assassin from dancing with his love.
Once both men were gone, Teagan stepped from a nearby darkened alcove; a grim smile on his face. He'd chosen this spot so he could watch Zeva in secret and he'd witnessed the entire exchange between the assassin and the Warden Commander.
His heart now thundered loudly in his chest. Duncan is dying! he thought happily. Though he wasn't sure when it would happen, he now knew that Zeva would be free to join him again.
The assassin, however, was going to be a problem. The man seemed determined to snatch Zeva from him once her mourning was completed. Teagan could never allow that to happen.
His goal was now clear. His true enemy was Zevran Arainai and he would use the time he had available to find the perfect way to rid himself of the Antivan once and for all…