First, I must warn you. This is a LONG chapter! You should understand why by the time you reach the end!
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"Glad to know the dwarves aren't the only group that gave you trouble over those treaties of yours," Oghren said jovially as they left the Dalish camp for the West Brecilian Forest. They'd located the elusive elves, only to discover that the tribe was under attack by a group of werewolves bent on their destruction. As expected, the Keeper of the clan, Zathrian, refused to lend any help to the Wardens in their battle against the darkspawn until his people were once again freed from the curse the werewolves had placed upon them.
In order to heal the elves, Duncan, Zeva and their companions would need to confront the leader of the werewolves, Witherfang, and remove the beast's heart; returning it to Zathrian. The Wardens were moved by the pain they saw on the victims' faces and readily agreed to the Keeper's terms.
"You're kidding, right?" Zeva asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "You wouldn't believe how thrilled I am to know that this is the last one. At the rate the danger level has been increasing with each new group, we'd have to destroy the infernal Archdemon just to get the next treaty signed!"
Duncan smiled and placed a comforting hand on Zeva's arm as they walked through the thick brush toward a nearby path. "I cannot disagree with your evaluation of our adventures thus far, love," he said softly. "I suppose we could consider this training for our upcoming battles against the darkspawn. Or," he added, sighing heavily, "we could simply look upon it as what it is – the political machinations that any group must endure in order to gain the allies they so desperately need."
"And you want me to deal with issues like this for the rest of my life?" Alistair asked, glaring angrily at his commander. "Gee, thanks!" The bastard prince was still furious at Duncan and Eamon for forcing him into accepting his new role as potential monarch. Zeva assured him regularly that she would support his desire to remain free, and it was only her constant presence that kept him from confronting Duncan once and for all.
"I am certain you will do fine, Alistair," Zevran said, moving forward and positioning himself between Zeva and the former templar. "You already have an amazing grasp of noble fashion and hairstyles, after all. Is this not half the battle for someone in the royal caste?"
Alistair groaned, running his fingers carefully through his hair. Before he could reply, however, Zeva reached over and cuffed Zevran playfully on his arm; attempting to relieve her fellow Warden's growing unease by keeping the mood light.
"You shouldn't tease the future king, you know, Zevran," she purred and Duncan seethed as he heard the affection in her voice. "He may decide to have you whipped for your insolence."
"If you are the one holding the whip, my Zeva," the elf replied softly, "I will take my lashings without complaint."
His Zeva? Duncan thought furiously, staring straight ahead so he wouldn't draw his dagger and slit the assassin's throat. She is my Zeva – no one else's!
Tensions had grown exponentially between Duncan and Zevran since their argument on the night of Eamon's celebratory banquet. The elf had made his future plans for Zeva quite clear; and try as he might, there was nothing the Warden Commander could do about it. The assassin was ever present at his beloved's side and the two rogues spent much time sparring, both verbally and physically, during the journey to seek out the Dalish elves. Though Zeva always maintained a safe distance from Zevran in an effort to ease any concerns Duncan may have had with regards to their relationship, her devotion to the antivan was clear for all to see. No matter how desperately he wished it, Duncan could see no way to separate his lover from his rival.
Oghren, never one to be left out of suggestive conversations, stepped in to make his opinion known. "I've never been a big fan of torture," he said and belched loudly, "but I think I have to agree with the elf on this one occasion. You get the leather and I'll stand in line, Warden."
Zeva laughed heartily, gazing warmly back at the dwarf and winking at him. She saw his comment for what it truly was – an attempt to diffuse yet another volatile situation between the two men who warred over her heart. Oghren had used that same technique on many occasions since his induction into their group, and Zeva appreciated his help more than she could ever say aloud.
"Kadan," Sten said sternly, motioning for the party to stop, "do you hear that?" The demeanor or the party quickly changed; each member readying their weapons for battle as they listened cautiously to the woods surrounding them.
It took only a few moments for the sound to repeat. Over the gurgle of the rushing water, a low growl could clearly be heard. Moving cautiously, the companions approached a nearby opening in the side of the rocks. Instantly they were set upon by a pack of werewolves, fangs bared and claws swinging wildly at their heads.
"Just another lovely day in the forest, isn't it, my darling Warden?" Zevran asked as he pushed his back up against Zeva's. The rogues were surrounded by several of the wolves. They'd nearly perfected their method of fighting as one, however, and the snarling creatures fell quickly to their combined might.
Zeva knelt down and collected several dried leaves from the ground as the final beast drew its last shuddering breath; using them to clean the blood from her blades. "Camping was never my favorite activity as a child," she replied, glancing over at Zevran. "And this recent development isn't making it more enticing, I can assure you."
"Oh, I don't know, Zeva," Wynne said as she healed a gash on Liara's leg. "You must admit that this forest is breathtaking. Were there a few less werewolves, I think it would be a lovely spot for a trip."
"Says the woman who has lived most of her life in a giant stone phallus," Morrigan interjected, a sneer curving her lips. "I imagine every breath of fresh air is a new and wondrous experience to you. Those of us who have lived in the woods all their lives can attest to its many dangers."
"You being one of the most deadly aspects of any wooded area, I imagine," the elderly mage retorted angrily.
The group continued past the rocks, Zeva, Duncan and Alistair in the lead. Ahead they could clearly see the divergent point of the numerous steams flowing through the area. Small wooden bridges had been placed across the water for ease of passage. As they stepped onto the closest bridge, they were greeted by three large werewolves. Though they growled ferociously at the Wardens, the beasts made no move to attack.
The largest of the three stepped forward, staring directly into Zeva's eyes. No one was more surprised that she when he spoke.
"You see, brothers and sisters," he began, his voice gravelly and strong. "Our scout wolves were correct. The Dalish send more of their kind to seek revenge for our actions."
It took Zeva a moment to recover from her initial shock and actually address the pack. "I do not come to seek revenge for anything," she said. "I am here to slay the wolf known as Witherfang so that I may save the Dalish elves that your pack recently cursed. The rest of you are no concern of mine."
The leader growled loudly in response to her declaration and Duncan moved, placing most of his body before her in a show of protection. This action drew the attention of the wolf, and his next words were addressed to the Warden Commander.
"Then you do seek revenge!" he snarled angrily. "The Dalish seek to destroy the great wolf! You stand before Swiftrunner. I speak for my cursed brothers and sisters. Go back to your Dalish masters and tell them you have failed. You will never kill the great wolf and we will watch as they suffer the same curse they forced upon us so long ago."
"Forced upon you?" Leliana asked. "Could you please explain what you mean? We mean your people no harm. We simply wish to speak to you."
"NO!" Swiftrunner cried, crouching into attack position. "You defile our forest with your talk! There will be no talk, only destruction of those who support the Dalish monsters!" Without another word, he launched himself at Duncan; his pack following suit.
Zeva dashed around Duncan, helping to fend off the wolves until her companions could get into position to attack. She watched Swiftrunner carefully as he and Duncan fought; the beast's claws shining bright in the sunlight as the Warden Commander deflected them with his daggers. Though the wolf had instigated the battle, he didn't seem to be pressing his obvious advantage. It made Zeva wonder if she knew the whole story of the 'monsters' Zathrian claimed had attacked his people.
Duncan moved quickly, maneuvering Swiftrunner during their clash until the wolf's back was against a nearby rock. As he brought down his dagger for the final strike, the wolf dropped to the ground; darting around him to join his fellows on the far side of the streams. They made no further effort to attack and Zeva motioned for the party to lower their weapons.
"Enough!" Swiftrunner called to his pack. "You have been warned, intruder. The forest deals with all those who would bring harm to its children." Turning away, the wolves vanished into the thick of the trees.
As the party cleaned themselves up, Zeva walked toward Leliana; her face showing the confusion she now felt. "Leli," she began, "I think there is far more to this than we have been told. What was your impression of the wolves?"
The bard nodded slowly, tightening the straps on her pack. "I must agree with you, Zeva," she replied. "While there is no doubt that the Dalish are suffering the same curse as the werewolves, and the wolves in question were the cause of their injuries, I think the Keeper failed to give us the entire story."
"Such is the way with the Dalish," Zevran explained. "I lived among them for a time, when I was still naïve enough to believe the tales of their former glory. They are a secretive and often deceptive people. We should keep an open mind in our dealings with the wolves, I think."
"Well, as the resident expert on lies and deceit, you would know what to look for," Duncan remarked snidely as he pulled Zeva away from the assassin and began speaking quietly with she and Alistair a good distance away.
"Things have gotten worse between the two of you, haven't they?" Leliana asked Zevran as she watched the Wardens speaking together. "I assume there is a reason for this?"
Zevran smiled as he watched Zeva stretch her arms above her head to loosen her muscles. "The Warden Commander recently came to a realization with regards to Zeva and her relationship with me," he explained, "and he isn't handling it very well. He would like nothing more than to see me vanish from her side. He now knows that will never happen."
Leliana could see the determination in his eyes when he turned his gaze to her. "Never."
As the party resumed their journey through the forest, the red-headed bard tried to ignore the sense of unease that had suddenly settled over her. She couldn't.
O~~~~~~~~o
Fergus Cousland wandered the castle grounds in much the same way he had since Zeva and her companions had left for the Brecilian Forest. His day began with breakfast in the dining hall with Eamon and Teagan, then a couple of hours of sword work in the castle's training circle. The rest of his day, when he wasn't occupied with meals or meetings, was spent travelling from one guard station to another; searching the nearby hills and valleys for any sign of his sister.
He was on his fourth trip to the northeast guard tower when one of the Arl's servants rushed up to him.
"Teyrn Cousland!" the man called, clearly winded from his search for Fergus. "You have received a message in the post today, Ser," he said, bowing politely to the Teyrn and handing him a small envelope before rushing off to complete his other errands.
Fergus glanced down at the envelope. The handwriting was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He sat down on a nearby bench and broke the blank seal on the outer envelope. Unfolding the enclosed parchment, he began to read.
The first to hear his cries of anguish were the nearby soldiers, one of whom dashed off to find Bann Teagan and apprise him of the situation. By the time Teagan reached Fergus, he was in his guest suite, hastily throwing garments into a nearby pack.
"What in the Maker's name are you doing, Fergus?" Teagan asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.
The Teyrn looked up. In his eyes, Teagan saw fury unlike anything he'd ever witnessed from his best friend before.
"I'm going to find my sister, and save her from the monster she's put her faith and trust in," he cried, turning once more to his frenzied packing. "And when I get my hands on him, he will pray for death!"
o~~~~~~~~o
"I think I've had my fill of this forest, Warden," Oghren complained, shaking his head in disbelief. "First we meet talking dogs. Then we meet talking trees that not only talk, but do nothing but rhyme! And then we have to fight a crazy old man for an acorn, of all things, which we take back to the talking tree so we can walk safely through the magical fog! Oh, and let's not forget the camp in the middle of the forest that wasn't a camp after all! Are all surface places so ridiculous?"
Zeva couldn't help but laugh at the dwarf's perfect description of their journey in the Brecilian Forest. She had been most disturbed by the cursed campsite located just south of the Grand Oak Tree, Oghren's 'talking tree'. They'd stopped to rest after fighting their first of several revenants and found themselves drawn into a deadly trap; all party members save two falling prey to a sleep spell cast by a greater shade. Wynne had set about waking the party while Zevran fought the specter.
Once she was back on her feet, Zeva searched the camp once again and picked a lock on a nearby chest. Inside she found a pair of gloves that, upon closer examination, appeared to be Dalish. First the boots, now the gloves, she thought happily as she stealthily placed them in her pack. If I keep this up, he'll be completely redressed in no time!
Thinking of Zevran and his attire caused an unbidden rush of desire to flow over Zeva and she blushed furiously as she rose to her feet. She had taken such care to avoid any contact with the assassin that would bring forth the feelings he stirred within her heart. Yet, even with all her hard work, she knew he held a piece of her that she would never be able to give to anyone else. Even Duncan…
The party stepped through the dense fog of the forest two at a time; Duncan and Zeva in the lead. On the other side of the magical barrier they discovered a path leading to a desiccated ruin. Standing between them and the building was Swiftrunner, looking even less pleased than he had been to see them when they first entered the forest.
"I see the forest failed to keep you from invading our sanctuary," he said, his gaze focused once more on Zeva. "You are a strong opponent, but your time here has ended. Leave our home at once or face the consequences."
"Please listen to me," Zeva replied quietly, her hands held before her in a sign of supplication. "My companions and I believe there may be more to your history with the Dalish than we have been told by their Keeper. If you tell me your side of the story, I may be able to help."
Several more werewolves ran forward to flank Swiftrunner as he firmly shook his head. "You lie," he snarled. "You are here to kill Witherfang! Your kind knows nothing of peace; only death and destruction. It ends here!"
Swiftrunner howled to his companions and rushed toward Zeva. Though she'd hoped to seek a peaceful solution to the problem, she was no fool. Her daggers were in her hands in an instant and she charged to meet him; slicing her right blade in a wide arc and catching the wolf in the side of his chest. He howled in agony, staggering back a few feet before resuming his attack.
Swiftrunner crouched low, rushing past Zeva was unnatural speed. His arm caught her in the chest and she flew into the air, landing several feet behind the party on her back; her head striking the hard earth. Barely conscious, the Warden was powerless to fight against the second werewolf that rushed toward her. Zeva had only a moment to register the beast's advance before he was upon her; his jaws snapping mere millimeters from her face.
Sten was nearby, fighting two werewolves of his own, when he saw Swiftrunner's successful attack on the Warden. He saw the second assailant and knew Zeva was in grave and imminent danger. Grasping Asala tightly with both hands, he released a shout of rage; spinning his body in a complete circle. Neither of his opponents was prepared for the attack and both lost their heads in one clean sweep of his blade.
Turning from the decapitated bodies, Sten dashed toward Zeva. He threw his body into the werewolf on her chest, hurling both himself and the growling creature into a nearby copse of bushes. The wolf bit deep into Sten's shoulder and the qunari cried out in anger. Adrenaline coursed through his limbs as Sten grabbed the wolf's muzzle; pulling up until he heard the snap of the beast's jaw muscles. His opponent fell limp in his arms, and the warrior slowly rose from the ground; holding his arm tight to his side as he approached the incapacitated rogue. Ignoring the sharp pain in his arm, he stood above the fallen Warden, straddling her body, and looked around; Asala held steadily out before him.
"Wynne, Zeva is down!" Leliana yelled. The bard had been forced to switch to her daggers from her bow as the battle began. The werewolves were simply too quick for long ranged attacks. The elder mage reacted immediately; lowering her staff and running quickly to Zeva's side.
"Sten, you need to move a little," she said quietly. She could feel the rage that flowed from the qunari and she was worried that he wouldn't listen to her. "I have to get to Zeva's limbs. You can continue guarding her from a foot or two away, can't you?"
The stoic warrior glanced down at Wynne and she was shocked to see concern in his eyes. "Heal her," he said sternly before stepping aside and allowing her to touch Zeva. "Completely. Now."
Nothing like a little pressure, Wynne thought as she began examining Zeva's wounds. She had the distinct impression that any failure on her part to fully heal the young woman would result in her immediate death.
Duncan was battling Swiftrunner when he noticed Wynne tending to Zeva's wounds. His momentary lapse of concentration gave the werewolf the edge he needed to close the distance between them. He struck out, catching Duncan in the neck. The force of the blow staggered the rogue, but did not cause any serious injury.
"You watch carefully for that one," the werewolf growled, indicating Zeva was a wave of his claw. "Yet you seek to kill us when we are simply doing the same for our people."
Duncan thrust forward with his dagger, slicing into Swiftrunner's leg. "Protection is one thing," he replied. "Callously cursing others out of pure hatred is another. It is something I cannot allow." The wolf was beginning to limp on his injured leg and the Warden pressed his attack, placing cuts up and down the creature's arms before crossing his daggers in front of his chest for the final blow.
From a ledge high above Duncan's head came a white wolf, its sleek body adorned with graceful tattoos. It leapt upon his chest, pushing him away from the object of his attack. The remaining werewolves withdrew from the fight immediately, seeking refuge behind the new arrival. Duncan was desperate to turn and check on Zeva, but something told him it could be fatal to give his back to the furious wolf.
The two stared into each other's eyes for several moments before the wolf turned and fled into the nearby building. As soon as he was positive the creature wouldn't return, he spun on his heel; eager to return to his beloved's side.
"Is she alright, Wynne?" he asked the moment he reached the group that was now encircling the young Warden. Dropping to the ground, he leaned close, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead and placing the gentlest of kisses there.
"Yes, Duncan, she is just fine," the mage replied, smiling warmly at the couple. "The impact caused some small fracturing in her right leg, but it's completely healed now." As she finished her diagnosis, she looked pointedly at Sten. He merely nodded, as though he knew his orders would be followed without question.
"Was that Witherfang?" Zeva asked as Duncan helped her up from the ground.
Nodding, Duncan led the group toward the ancient ruins. "I think so," he answered. "Strange behavior, though, wasn't it? Witherfang protected Swiftrunner, yet made no move to actually attack me. Something is very wrong with this situation, I am afraid."
"Well, of course it is," Zeva replied. "We're here, so it must be strange, unusual and incredibly dangerous. Now, let's go see what the mysterious white wolf has to show us."
o~~~~~~~~o
Teagan stared at Fergus, his mouth nearly to his chest. Did he just say he was going to kill someone Zeva trusted?
"Fergus," he said cautiously, "please stop and tell me what has happened."
The Teyrn shook his head furiously as he continued his rabid trip around the room. "I haven't got the time, Teagan," he said quickly. "I am sorry. Zee Zee is in grave danger. She needs me."
Knowing he would have to be more forceful if he ever wished to learn the truth of the situation, Teagan stepped up to his best friend and grabbed his arm; spinning him around to face him.
"You aren't moving one more step until you tell me exactly what is going on here, Fergus Bryce Cousland," he said angrily, his grip growing tighter as the Teyrn made to move away. "You aren't the only one in this castle who is concerned about Zeva. She is the woman I love, remember? If she is in danger, I will be at your side to save her."
His words had the desired effect on Fergus, and frantic man sighed heavily; sitting back onto his bed and pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. "It's all right here, Teagan," the Teyrn said sadly. "You were right. I should have been firmer with her when she was here. If I had, she might not be in harm's way right now."
The Bann took the letter and gazed down at it. He recognized the handwriting immediately. "This is from Isolde," he began as he walked to a nearby settee and sat down. "What could she possibly know about Zeva, and why is she writing you?"
"Just read it," Fergus said, his head hanging low on his chest.
Teagan removed the letter from its envelope and unfolded it, gazing down at the delicate handwriting that covered the page:
Fergus,
I pray this missive finds you in good health. I am sorry to bother you during your recovery, but I have received news of utmost importance to the safety of you and your sister.
As I am sure you know, Eamon and I agreed that, for the time being, it would be best that I travel to Denerim and prepare the house for the arrival of the Wardens and their party. The Landsmeet is quickly approaching; and as you are well aware, there can never be too much preparation for such an event.
I have spent my time getting reacquainted with old friends; attending parties and spreading the word of the Wardens' many good deeds. They may be wanted criminals, but you and I both know that Loghain is incorrect in his assessment of Zeva and her fellows. They only want the best for Ferelden, as they have proven time and time again since the Battle at Ostagar.
It was during one of these soirées that I learned the truth about Rendon Howe and the men he hired to help him invade your home. Though Howe is Arl of Denerim, many of the more prominent families have taken to shunning him. They are aware of the fate that befell your family, and do not wish their names to be associated with a mass murderer.
You know how these parties go, Fergus. When wine if flowing freely, people will speak what is truly in their hearts. One such individual was bragging that he'd recently spent several evenings with the new Arl of Denerim, and had information about the attack on Highever Castle that had never before been mentioned. Wanting to gather any news that might assist you and Zeva in retaking your home, I set about to learn all that I could from the drunken sot. It didn't take much prying to get him to release his secret piece of information. As soon as I heard it, I knew I had to contact you as soon as possible.
Rendon Howe is a greedy man with an extremely elevated idea of his place in society. In order to grab more political power, as well as to gain access to Zeva, he plotted to take everything from your mother and father. Alone, however, he would never have had a sufficient force to complete such a lofty endeavor. So, to ensure he would have the manpower needed to topple Highever Castle, he enlisted the aid of the Antivan Crows, a rather well-known group of assassins from that country.
On the night of the attack, as your family lay sleeping, Howe let the Crows into your home through a secret series of tunnels under the house. Their job was to take the family hostage and make sure none of the servants interfered with his plans. They were also tasked with killing the Grey Warden who had unexpectedly arrived at the castle. They obviously failed in that attempt, but they did enable Howe's men to capture and kill those you and Zeva loved the most.
I know I don't need to explain to you the importance of this information. Zeva has allowed one of their filthy members to infiltrate her group of companions - an elf, I might add, who was originally tasked with kidnapping Zeva and returning her to Arl Howe.
You and Zeva are both in grave danger, Fergus, as long as this man is allowed to remain near you. I would never want to see either of you hurt. You are both like family to us, and your safety is paramount to Eamon, as it is to myself.
I will be leaving Denerim shortly to visit some friends in Starkhaven. In light of recent events, I think it best that I take some time alone to heal from the horrors of this war. Please send my best to everyone. I am sure we will speak again soon.
Do not allow this Crow to remain one moment longer with Zeva, Fergus. He is a dangerous enemy, and there is no telling what he might do if he discovers that his lies have been laid bare.
All my best,
Isolde
Teagan was silent for several moments, unable to find the right words to describe his feelings. Fergus would call it shock and horror; and those emotions were there, though in far lesser amounts than the Teyrn would ever dream.
No, Bann Teagan Guerrin wasn't struck numb with anger and revulsion over this new turn of events. His heart was instead filled with the greatest of joy. Ever since learning of the antivan bastard's plans for his Zeva, Teagan had known the time would come when he would have to deal with the assassin. Now it appeared as though Fergus and the Warden Commander would handle the matter for him. Once Duncan learned of Zevran's participation in the attack on Highever Castle, nothing would keep him from killing the elf.
With that idea came a new glimmer of hope. It was entirely possible that Zeva, upon seeing Duncan kill the man Teagan knew she cared for deeply, would turn him aside; unable to continue her relationship with the elf's killer. His future, so grim only a week before, now held a limitless number of possibilities. Zeva would be his again. He just needed to plan his next steps very carefully. Hiding the happiness that now flowed through him, Teagan rose from the settee and moved toward his friend; placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Maker, Fergus," he said. "I don't even know where to begin. Can we really trust the information we received from Isolde? She is a vindictive woman, you know. She may well be attempting to hurt Zeva for her actions while Isolde was still living here in the castle." Teagan knew there was every possibility that his observations were correct. Isolde was a horrible woman, and there was no way she would ever wish to protect Zeva; no matter how much she sang the Warden's praises in her letter. However, even the biggest lie can be born out of truth, and one small grain of honesty was all he needed to doom the elf.
Fergus rose and resumed his packing. "I don't trust Isolde either, Teagan, but in this case I think she may be telling the truth," he said. "You remember how I told you I had been in contact with several Highever locals since Ostagar? Well, my friends there searched the area around the castle and found the tunnels that Isolde spoke of in her letter several months ago; along with evidence of their recent use."
Turning to Teagan, he shook his head. "She's telling the truth, my friend," he said angrily. "And now that monster is travelling with my Zee Zee, having gained her trust and wormed his way into her heart. Well, he will pay for his crimes; beginning at Highever and continuing ever since. Now you see why I must leave. I have to stop him before he harms her, Teagan!"
Reaching out, he grasped the Bann's arms. "Maker, Teagan! What if he hurts her? What if she learns of his deception and he kills her? I couldn't survive if I lost Zeva!"
"And that is why you won't be leaving this house, Fergus," Teagan replied. "You know how much I love Zeva, and you know I would give my own life in an instant if it would save hers."
At a nod of agreement from the Teyrn, he resumed his thought, "However, I know that you and I, travelling with a group of Eamon's men, will never find them in the middle of the Brecilian Forest. I may despise the Warden Commander, but I know he and his companions won't allow anyone to harm Zeva. There are no less than ten individuals travelling in that party at this moment. The assassin won't dare to make a move against her with so many eyes watching him.
No," he continued, his confidence growing with each moment that passed, "we will wait here for them to return. And when they do, we will make the antivan pay for every moment of grief Zeva was forced to endure since that fateful night in Highever."
After several moments of silence, Fergus nodded. "You are right, my friend," he said, grasping Teagan's shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "It would only hurt Zeva if she were to return and we weren't here. But know this, Teagan. I will make the antivan pay for the deaths of my family; regardless of his role in the massacre. My family deserves justice, and I will see that they get it."
Justice? Teagan thought as he gazed out the window. Or revenge? He supposed it didn't really matter, when all was said and done. The elf would be dead. And, if he played his cards correctly, the Warden would never again be allowed near the woman he loved with all his heart.
o~~~~~~~~o
Zeva stood in the bowels of the forest temple, her armor battered, filthy and wet from a swim through the buildings lower tunnels, staring up at the wolf she'd engaged in battle twice already in her attempt to save the elves. Swiftrunner was surrounded by several of his fellow beasts, all of whom seemed quite anxious to begin yet another round of bloodshed.
"Be at peace, brothers and sisters," the pack leader said, and the angry wolves seemed to calm somewhat. "We have seen enough death for one day. I ask you now, stranger; are you willing to parlay?"
"I have been willing to do so since the moment we entered this forest," Zeva reminded him. "My companions and I never wished to harm any of you; with the exception of Witherfang, of course. There is much about this journey that I wish to understand better, and we would be pleased to discuss it with you."
Though the Warden spoke of non-violence, each of her companions still held tight to their weapons. It would have been foolish to do otherwise, given the events of the day.
"Not with me," Swiftrunner snarled, his impatience with the proceedings clear to see. "It is our Lady who wishes to speak with you. She has witnessed your strength, and feels that there is much to this situation that you do not yet understand."
"That's putting it lightly," Oghren complained, shifting his battleaxe from one hand to the other. "I quit understanding this mess when the tree started talking."
"Then take me to her," Zeva said. She looked to Duncan for his opinion, and he nodded.
"Then follow me," Swiftrunner said, turning toward the door behind him. "If you attempt to harm the Lady in any way, however, know that it will mean your life."
They entered a spacious cavern and approached a raised dais. Swiftrunner stepped upon it and turned back to the party, growling angrily. Suddenly, from a nearby corridor, came a young woman; her legs and arms wrapped in what appeared to be tree branches. She was beautiful, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders to cover her naked torso. She approached Swiftrunner and placed a hand on his shoulder. The wolf instantly calmed and dropped to his knee in an obvious show of respect. The rest of the pack quickly followed suit.
"Well, Antivan, this is probably more your style," Oghren said, chuckling softly. "Forget the talking foliage; now we have naked tree women."
"While her beauty is undeniable," Zevran replied, loud enough that only the nearest companions could hear him; Zeva being one of them, "she pales in comparison to that which I see every day." Zeva was temporarily stunned into silence at his words, her attention only returning to the new arrival when she spoke.
"I welcome you to my home, outsider," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I am the Lady of the Forest."
Before she could continue, Swiftrunner interrupted. "These mortals seek to destroy you, my Lady!" he snarled. "They cannot be allowed to remain alive! We must kill them now!"
"No, Swiftrunner," the Lady replied, shaking her head sadly. "Too many of our own have died in the battle against these mortals today. I would not see more added to their number." Turning her attention back to Zeva, she continued. "I apologize on behalf of Swiftrunner. He struggles against his nature."
"A common problem," Zeva replied, smiling gently at her new acquaintance, "among all manner of beings."
The Lady nodded sadly. "You speak the truth. The nature of the creatures you see before you, however, was forced upon them; by the very same man who now asks you to cure his people."
"Wait," Duncan interjected. "Zathrian cursed these wolves? For what reason?"
"It is a sad tale," the Lady replied. "When the Dalish first came to these lands, Zathrian was a young man, with a son and daughter he loved very much. A nearby human tribe sought to drive them away, and they captured Zathrian's children. The boy was tortured and murdered, while the young girl was… violated… and left for dead."
"Maker," Leliana said, her eyes filled with sadness. "What manner of person would do such a thing? Did the girl survive?"
"For a time," the Lady replied. "She eventually discovered that she was with child; and in her anguish, she took her own life. Zathrian summoned a terrible forest spirit in this temple and bound it to a great wolf. Thus, Witherfang was born. Witherfang hunted the human tribe responsible for the attack. Some he killed, but others were left with the curse you now see before you in Swiftrunner and his brothers and sisters. They were left alone, filled with mindless rage, to wander these woods for the rest of their lives."
"How did they become as they are now, then?" Zeva asked. "They speak and appear quite rational; when they aren't attempting to kill us, that is."
"The Lady showed us that we could live another way," Swiftrunner answered, his gazed fixed on the woman at his side. "She helped us to learn to harness our anger."
"Is that what you call what you've done to the Dalish tribe, then?" Zeva asked angrily. "Harnessing your anger?"
"No," the Lady replied. "The attack was an act of desperation. You see, Zathrian can lift the curse that ravages Swiftrunner and his kin. Each time the tribe returns to the forest, we send messengers to ask that he come here and speak to us. He never comes. Now, as his own people suffer the curse, he will be forced to come if he wishes to cure them."
"I sense that this is where I come in, isn't it?" Zeva asked warily. "Let me guess. You wish me to bring him to you so that you may converse with him on this matter."
The Lady nodded slowly. "You are wise," she said. "Please, mortal, bring him to me. We wish him no harm, I assure you. We only want him to end the curse that he placed upon these poor souls."
"I don't see what harm it could do," Duncan said, placing a hand on Zeva's arm. "We will be with him, after all."
"Fine," Zeva said, smiling up at her beloved. "We will do as you ask. Know, however, that we won't allow any harm to come to Zathrian. We don't wish to fight, but we will if provoked."
"Agreed," the Lady said. Turning to her right, she indicated a set of stairs that rose into the ceiling. "We have opened the path to the forest for you, outsider. Please return as soon as you can."
As they ascended the stairs, Wynne chuckled, gazing up at the Wardens. "She is truly unique," she told Leliana, indicating Zeva with a toss of her head. "She simply cannot resist helping those in need, can she?"
"No, she cannot," Leliana replied, her eyes dark with concern. "And one day I fear it will be her undoing."
o~~~~~~~~o
As they entered the chamber at the top of the stairs, Zeva stopped and stared angrily at the Dalish Keeper. He was standing amidst a pile of werewolf corpses, a small smile on his face.
"You lied to me, Zathrian," she said as she approached him, and Zevran began to chuckle. He found Zeva to be most enticing when she allowed her anger to control her actions. "You knew about this temple and you knew that you were the one responsible for the curse that now afflicts your own people! Is there anything else you haven't told me?"
"I did not lie," he replied. "I simply omitted information that had no bearing on your mission. Nothing that you have come to know changes the facts of the matter. You need my aid with your treaty and I need Witherfang's heart. Do you have it?"
"No, I do not have it!" she spat. "And I do not take kindly to being deceived. That is a matter for a later discussion, however. At present, you need to accompany me to see the Lady of the Forest. She won't allow me access to Witherfang until she meets with you."
Zathrian sighed, rubbing his face in his hands. "You do realize that the Lady is Witherfang, do you not?" he asked irritably. "You need only kill her and the matter will be settled."
"I'm not killing anyone until I have the true facts of this situation," Zeva said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I will not know what to believe until I have seen you both together. So, let me make this quite clear to you. You are coming with me to see the Lady and you will listen to what she has to say. If, once I have heard your parlay, I think there is sufficient reason to remove Witherfang's heart, I will do it, myself, without a second thought. Are we in agreement?"
"Fine," Zathrian spat as he walked toward the stairs. "I will listen to what the demon has to say, though it will not change my mind. You had best be prepared to fight once all is said and done, Warden. You have given your promise of aid to my people, and I did not think Grey Wardens broke their promises."
"I don't like him," Oghren complained, walking next to Sten.
"I am certain the feeling is mutual," the qunari replied, shaking his head slowly. He really didn't care which side prevailed in this particular battle, as long as they continued their search for the Archdemon. And as long as Kadan is kept safe, he thought, though he would never admit his admiration and respect for the leader of this group aloud.
o~~~~~~~~o
As soon as the party entered the lower catacombs, the wolves began to snarl viciously at Zathrian. Zeva and Duncan remained close at his sides, their weapons at the ready.
"I see you have finally found a way to get me here, spirit," Zathrian said, his hatred for the Lady easy to see.
"She is the Lady, and you will address her with respect!" Swiftrunner snarled, stepping up to Zathrian and flexing his claws to prove his point.
"Be calm, Swiftrunner," the Lady said softly, and the wolf immediately returned to her side.
"You allow your pets to have names, then?" the Keeper asked snidely, ignoring the ferocious wolf before him. "How very interesting."
"They are not pets, Zathrian," she replied, and there was a deep anger in her tone. "They are the victims of your revenge. The crimes for which you are punishing them happened long before they were born. Has you need for retribution not dimmed, even after all these years?"
Zathrian laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "My need for vengeance is eternal, as is my pain," he declared forcefully. "These monsters at your side are simply a physical manifestation of the evil that lurks inside their hearts. I will never forgive the cruelty that befell my children and I will never release them from their curse!"
Zeva and Duncan exchanged concerned glances. They both knew they would soon be forced to choose a side in this conflict, and it wasn't certain to either which way they should go. Their attention fell once again on Zathrian and the Lady; this time due to mention of their group.
"Is your eternal pain and anguish the only reason you refuse to lift the curse on these poor souls?" the Lady asked, pacing slowly before the Wardens' party. "Have you told your new allies about the connection between this curse and your own seeming immortal existence?"
"Another omission, Zathrian?" Zeva interjected, shaking your head. "You seem to have many of those for someone who asked for my help."
"When Zathrian bound my spirit to the great wolf, he needed his own blood to finalize the ritual," the Lady explained. "Though his death may not be a result of lifting the curse, I believe it may play a part in ending it."
"And so it begins," Zevran whispered to Zeva. She glanced over at him and nodded her head.
"Then we kill him now!" Swiftrunner declared. "We kill them all if we have to!"
"See?" Zathrian exclaimed, his eyes wide with fury. "They'll turn on you, as well, Warden! Now do what you promised and help me end them all!"
Zeva glanced at Duncan. A moment of silent communication passed between them and then Duncan spoke.
"I will not help you kill these cursed souls that you have damned to this existence," he told Zathrian. "I am sorry for the suffering of your family; and if these were the men responsible, I would fight gladly at your side. Unfortunately, that isn't the case. These are the victims of your long-held hatred, and it will end today."
"Then you will die alongside the beasts you defend!" Zathrian yelled as he pulled his staff. The party quickly spread out around the room, drawing their weapons and preparing for the fight to come.
With one swift wave of his staff, the werewolves found themselves frozen in place; unable to aid the outsiders in the battle against the Dalish Keeper. From every corner of the room, wild sylvan trees came to life and attacked the party members closest to them.
Duncan and Zeva ignored everyone else and ran straight for the Dalish mage; Zevran close behind them. The trio surrounded the mage; and though he was blessed with powerful magic, he was no match for their combined might. Duncan broke through his magic defenses with his daggers, while Zevran and Zeva concentrated on interrupting any attempts he made to cast further spells. It wasn't long before the Keeper began to stumble, and finally fell to the floor.
"I cannot… defeat you," he gasped, staring up at the Wardens. "Enough, please."
"Then we must finish him. Kill him now!" Swiftrunner cried, moving quickly in the direction of the fallen Keeper.
"No, Swiftrunner," the Lady said and her voice called the werewolf back to her side. "We must show him the mercy that he has been unable to find in his own heart."
"My people… my children…" Zathrian whispered. "I cannot forgive. I am too old to let go of the pain now."
Zeva knelt down before him, a look of pity in her eyes. "Yes, you can," she said softly. "Your people are in pain, Zathrian, and they will continue to suffer and die if you do not end this. Do you want that for them? I don't think you do."
The Keeper gazed steadily at Zeva for several moments before replying. "No," he said finally and slowly pulled himself up from the floor. "I have lived too long. My soul has been lost to the anger and hatred. I need it to end."
"Then you will help us?" the Lady asked.
"Yes," Zathrian said softly. "What of you, however? You know this will mean the end of your life, as well."
The Lady simply nodded. The wolves around her howled, their anguish evident in the haunting song.
"Then let us be done," the elf said, holding his staff up and plunging it into the floor. He immediately fell to the ground as a pale mist began to swirl about the room. Zeva and her companions watched in awe as the Lady began to glow. With a final loving look at her wolves, the spirit of the forest burst into a bright light that rose through the atrium toward the sky.
As soon as she'd departed, the wolves began to change. In no time at all, they had transformed into human forms. The man formerly known as Swiftrunner walked to Zeva and took her hand in his.
"I have no words to express what this means to us," he said, smiling warmly at her. "You have given us our lives, and we will never forget it."
"I am glad your curse has been lifted," she replied, squeezing his hand gently. "What will you do now?"
"We will seek out destinies far away from this cursed forest," he said, his voice gaining strength with each word. "Join other human tribes and live the life we were meant to have. Thank you again, milady." He released her hand, bowing politely to the others before fleeing the temple with his companions.
"We should go, as well, Zeva," Duncan said, capturing the hand Swiftrunner had abandoned. "We have to take Zathrian to his clan and check to make sure the injured of their group has healed. Then we need to return to Redcliffe as soon as possible. I think the time has come to take the battle to Loghain, wouldn't you agree?"
Zeva leaned up and placed a light kiss on her beloved's lips. "I agree wholehearted, my love," she replied softly. "I am sure Fergus is quite beside himself at this point. I'll be lucky if he doesn't try to punish me for my absence as soon as I arrive."
"That I would like to see, my Warden," Zevran added, chuckling softly as they started up the stairs. "I somehow picture such a confrontation ending badly for your brother."
o~~~~~~~~o
By the third week of Zeva's absence, Fergus had nearly worn path in the paving stones atop the castle battlements. Ever since he'd received Isolde's letter, he'd been unable to focus on anything else. Eamon and Teagan tried to keep him occupied, but it was no use. Until Zeva was safely at his side, and the murderous elf was dealt with, the young Teyrn would find no peace.
He was heading into the castle for his evening meal when he was stopped by a watchtower guard. "Your sister has returned, Milord," he said respectfully. "She and her companions are crossing the bridge into town as we speak."
"Is the elf with her?" Fergus asked, pure hatred flowing once more through his body.
"Yes, Milord, he is," the guard replied. "Should I send men to apprehend him?"
Before Fergus could answer, Teagan arrived and shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "You and your men are to stay far away from the courtyard. Do I make myself clear?"
"Are you crazy, Teagan?" Fergus asked, staring in shock at his friend. "This is the murderer of my family that we are speaking of, and you want to send your guards away?"
"Think, Fergus," Teagan said as he placed a hand on the Teyrn's shoulder to calm him down. "If you send Eamon's soldiers to apprehend the elf while Zeva is at his side, what do you think she'll do?"
It took only a moment Fergus to arrive at an answer. "She will defend him," he said sadly.
"Yes," Teagan replied. "And she will undoubtedly kill anyone who attempts to harm him. You know her, Fergus, and you see the truth in my words."
"I do," the Teyrn reluctantly agreed. "So, how would you suggest we handle this?"
Teagan smiled. He'd thought of nothing else since reading the letter and he knew exactly what must be done to gain the greatest benefit from the elf's downfall. "Give her the letter, Fergus," he said. "Allow her to read it for herself. Once she knows the truth, she will have no choice but to act."
"He will pay, Teagan," Fergus whispered one last time as they headed for the courtyard.
"Yes he will, my friend," the Bann stated as he opened the castle door for Fergus. And it will be glorious, he added silently; the smile on his face growing as he thought of the assassin's impending doom.
o~~~~~~~~o
Fergus heard his sister's laughter before she stepped into view. I am sorry, Zee Zee, he thought, knowing how painful the next few minutes would be for her. Though he longed to kill the elf, he knew how deeply Zeva cared for him; and the realization of the way she'd been betrayed would be devastating to her. He hoped she would forgive him for being the bearer of such horrific news.
As soon as she saw Fergus by the door to the castle, Zeva ran ahead of the party and threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly.
"See?" she asked as she pulled away and gazed up at him, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I told you I'd be back safe and sound before you knew it! And you will not believe the things that happened! It was…"
She stopped, the anguished look on her brother's face finally registering with the young Warden. "What is it, Fergus?" she asked, quickly feeling his arms for injuries. "Are you alright? Has something happened to Eamon? Oh, Fergus, tell me nothing has happened to him!"
"Calm down, Zee Zee," Fergus said, placing his hands on her arms and taking a deep breath. "Eamon is fine. I am fine. Redcliffe is fine."
"Then why do you look so terrible? The look in your eyes tells me that something is definitely wrong," she said quietly.
Teagan stepped forward and nudged Fergus softly with his foot. "The letter, Fergus," he said softly. "Give her the letter."
Zeva looked between the two men, confusion evident in her eyes. "What letter?" she asked. "Will one of you please tell me what has happened?"
Her voice had risen several octaves and the rest of the party was now concentrating on the trio at the top of the stairs. Morrigan had a feeling she knew the cause of the distress and she slowly began to move away from the others; drawing her staff from its leather casing. Though she was no fan of Zevran's, she knew the importance of keeping him alive. Should the worst occur, she would step in and do all that was necessary to protect him from harm.
Fergus' hands shook as he took the envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. Before she'd arrived, his only thought had been to avenge his family. Now that she was standing before him, however, his need for retribution was being weighed against his love for Zeva; and vengeance was losing ground quickly.
Zeva opened the envelope and removed the letter. She unfolded it and leaned against the nearest pillar, her eyes flying down the page. She hadn't gotten far when a small scream tore from her throat and she began visibly shaking; tears glistening in her eyes.
Zevran watched the woman he loved and knew that she was reading about him. The pained expression on her face told him everything. Even as his heart began to break, however, a sense of peace settled over him. At last the truth would be out. He would no longer have to hide his past from the woman whose destiny he shared. And he was destined to be with her, wasn't he? The witch had been so certain about it.
As if to reassure himself of the truth, he glanced over at Morrigan and their eyes met. She nodded slowly, her staff already glowing with magic in her hand. Her presence, usually unsettling at the best of times and downright frightening at the worst, seemed to add strength to his resolve. He knew she wouldn't let him die; and as long as he survived, he knew there was hope for a life with Zeva.
The cursed letter floated to the ground as Zeva finished it. It took several moments before she was able to look up at anyone. When she did, her focus returned to her brother.
"This is ridiculous," she said, her voice quivering. "Isolde is simply mad."
"She is not mad, Zeva," Fergus said, stepping toward her. "I'd heard similar rumors of mercenaries from my contacts in Highever. We just didn't know the identity of the brigands until now." That said, he turned his focus on Zevran and the elf saw the pure hatred in the Teyrn's eyes.
"What is going on, Fergus?" Duncan asked, moving up the stairs to stand near the siblings. He couldn't bear to watch the pain on Zeva's face anymore. If he could ascertain the cause of her anguish, he could fix it.
It was Zeva who answered. "Fergus received a letter from Isolde," she began, and her shaky voice still carried clearly across the courtyard. "In it she states that a drunkard at a party in Denerim gave her valuable information about the attack on Highever. According to this 'reputable' party, Rendon Howe was aided in his attack on the castle by a group of outside mercenaries."
"Alright," Duncan said, his concern for Zeva growing as the light in her eyes began to dim. "You and I discussed this the night of the attack, love. I was attacked by two men who weren't part of Howe's entourage. Has Isolde learned something new with regards to the soldiers?"
"So she claims," Zeva said, unwilling to believe that the Arlessa's words were true. "According to Isolde, Howe enlisted the aid of the Antivan Crows for his attack on my family." As soon as she uttered the words, Duncan saw a break in her resolve and her eyes once more filled with tears.
Zevran felt the eyes of every party member fixed solely on him. He stood perfectly still, not willing to address the issue with anyone except Zeva. Unfortunately, she still refused to look his way; an action that spoke to the depth of her pain.
Duncan had no such reservations with regards to the antivan, however, and he immediately turned in Zevran's direction; his expression contorted with rage.
"You!" he spat, moving slowly down the stairs toward the assassin. "You and your companions were responsible for the massacre at Highever? I always thought you were despicable, but even I never imagined something like this!" As he advanced toward Zevran, he slowly began drawing his daggers from their scabbards.
Perfect, Teagan thought, a sly smile creeping across his face. This couldn't be better! The Warden Commander would strike down the elf and Zeva would finally see him for the bestial man he was! She would be his for the taking. She would…
"Duncan, stop!" Zeva called, hurrying down the stairs after her lover. She reached him and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from Zevran. Fergus shook his head sadly. He'd known this would happen. Well, if his sister wasn't able to punish the monster who'd take his family away, he would. He headed toward the companions, his sword hung loosely at his side.
"What are you doing?" she cried at Duncan, her eyes wild with fear. "You can't believe anything Isolde says! She would like nothing more than to hurt me and drive us all apart."
"Zeva," Duncan began, reaching forward to place his hands on her arms. She shook her head and pulled away from him; turning instead to face Zevran.
She looked deep into his eyes, the pain in his amber depths matching her own. "Isolde is wrong; isn't she, Zev?" she asked, her voice tinged with desperation. "Tell them she was lying! You weren't at Highever when it was attacked. You couldn't have been. That would mean you…"
Zevran couldn't speak; he could hardly breathe. He was completely lost in Zeva's eyes; drowning in a sea of his own guilt.
"Zevran, please…" she began, the tears now streaming down her face. "Tell them…"
"I can't," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He reached out, slowly running his hand down the side of Zeva's face. "I cannot tell them that the Arlessa is lying, mia bellezza, for she is not."
"No," Zeva said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You couldn't have been there. You wouldn't do that to my family, to me…"
"Zeva," Fergus said, moving beside his sister and placing a hand on her shoulder. "I will handle this. Duncan, would you please take Zeva into the castle? She doesn't need to be here."
Zeva shrugged off his hand, her gaze never wavering from Zevran's. All signs of desperation were gone. In its place, the assassin saw the fury he'd witnessed on the day he'd attacked her party outside of Redcliffe. Intermingled with the anger was a pain so deep that it nearly brought him to his knees.
"Go away, Fergus," she said quietly, her voice chillingly cold. The Teyrn stared at his sister in confusion, the immediate change in her demeanor disquieting.
"I can…" he began.
She suddenly spun on him, her daggers unsheathed and pointed in his direction. "I said go away," she said quietly. "He is mine. If anything is to be 'handled', it will not be you who does it."
"Zeva…" Duncan began. Never taking her blades from her brother's direction, her gaze shifted to the Warden Commander.
"You, too," she said simply. Looking around at the party, she raised her voice. "Back away, all of you!" she yelled angrily. "I would speak privately with the murderer of my family before I end his life."
Fergus stared, unmoving, at the vision of vengeance before him. He opened his mouth to speak, and jumped when he felt a hand on his arm.
"Gentlemen," Leliana whispered, gently pulling on both Duncan and Fergus, "please come with me. This is not the time to argue." Though neither man wanted to leave, they followed the bard's instructions; slowly backing away from Zeva and resuming their watch at the top of the courtyard steps.
All distractions now gone, Zeva once more turned her attention to Zevran. Her daggers, though still clutched tightly in her hands, now hung at her sides.
"Let me see if I understand all that has just been revealed to me," she said slowly, tears once more filling her eyes. "You and your assassin compatriots stole into my home in the middle of the night, at the behest of the man who would use me for his own demented pleasures, and took my family from their beds. You then tied them to chairs in my father's study and left them there, for Howe to play with as he saw fit! Is this what the Crows call an honest day's labor?"
"It was an assignment," Zevran said, his hands twitching with the desire to take her in his arms and erase the anguish he knew she was experiencing. "Like any other, at that time. I knew nothing of your family until the mission was nearly complete. Howe made sure we were only given the information that we needed to complete our portion of the plan. All else, especially any references to you and your loved ones, was held in secret by the man, himself."
Zeva began pacing in a small circle, her arms swinging lightly at her sides. When Fergus made to rejoin her, he was once again grabbed by Leliana. The look of terror in the bard's eyes made him rethink his decision and he remained on the stairs; his own heart breaking as he watched his sister slowly disintegrate into grief.
"So your client never told you that one of the victims of your actions would be a child?" she yelled, turning once more to face him. "My nephew, Oren, was a child, you arrogant, unfeeling bastard! He had his entire life ahead of him, and you ended it!"
Zevran remained silent for several moments, allowing Zeva's anger to ebb somewhat before he responded.
"I did not end his life, Zeva," he said sadly. "I never even saw your family, or you. Believe me, if I had, things would have turned out differently."
His statement, meant to calm the furious Warden, seemed to have the opposite effect.
"Believe you?" she yelled, moving to stand mere inches of him. "You want me to believe you? You must be insane!" The tears were once more flowing freely down her cheeks and she dropped her daggers, burying her face in her hands for several minutes, sobbing openly. When she looked back up, the anger had vanished. Unfortunately for Zevran, the feeling of betrayal remained all too clear to see.
"Your assassin brothers must be so proud of you, Zevran," she began quietly. "You have managed to accomplish what none of them ever have before, most likely. You destroyed an entire family in one night. Then, as if that wasn't enough, you located the only remaining victim of your crimes, as far as you knew, and managed to deceive your way into her bed…" There was a pause before she could speak again... "and her heart. That's no easy feat, I warrant; unless the mark is as blind as I obviously was."
"You took everything from me, Zevran Arainai," she continued, her voice still choked with sobs. "You took my home, my family, my friends; and still that wasn't enough for you. No, you had to seek me out and take all I had left – my faith in those I call friends, my trust, my… heart. What kind of monster does something like that?"
Reaching down, her sight blurred with tears, she picked up one of her daggers and held it out to him. "Why don't you just finish it, Zevran," she said, thrusting the weapon into his hands. "Finish the job you began so long ago. Because all I have left for you to take now is my life. Believe me, assassin, if I could I would take yours. I would cut the black heart from the center of your chest and burn it before you. I would do anything to make you feel the pain and emptiness you have cursed me with today."
Tears spilled from Zevran's eyes as the dagger once more clattered to the ground. With the last of her energy, Zeva struck him across the face and slammed her fists into his chest. "I would kill you, you know," she declared, and he saw the truth of it in her eyes. "I should kill you. I want to kill you, for all that you have done to me…"
Her voice was barely a whisper when she next spoke. "But I can't. Even after everything that has happened, all the lies and deceit, the horror and pain that you unleashed on my family… I can't do it. I look at you and I know, somehow, that if I drew my blade across your throat, it will kill me as surely as it would you." Her heartbreak now all consuming, she released her hold on Zevran's armor and slid to the ground, landing on her knees.
"Go," she said, waving toward the courtyard gate with a shaking hand. "Just go, before I change my mind, and never come back. If I ever see you again, Zevran, I will kill you; even if it's the last thing I ever do."
Zevran began to back slowly toward the gate, but not before he addressed the woman whose life he'd ruined. "I will go for now, my Zeva," he began, "but know this. Never, in all the time I have spent at your side, have I ever lied about my feelings for you. You have been the only true light in a very dark life. You have shown me what it means to be loved, and how to give that love in return. There will never come a time, no matter how long you live, that I will not be there to catch you when you fall. This I swear to you with all my heart."
His own tears beginning to fall, Zevran turned and walked away.
Fergus registered the assassin's imminent departure and flew down the courtyard steps. "Zeva, what are you thinking?" he cried as reached his sister's side. "He cannot be allowed to leave! He killed our family! You can't just let him go!" Drawing his sword, he moved to pursue the elf.
He'd only taken two steps with Sten moved to block his path. "Let it be done, Teyrn," the qunari said quietly, shaking his head. Fergus stared up at the warrior in shock.
"Sten is correct, Fergus," Alistair said, moving to stand next to the warrior. "This needs to end now, before it gets worse. The assassin didn't kill your family, Howe did. And you will deal with him soon enough. You may fight Zevran, and you may even defeat him; but at what cost?" The templar gestured toward Zeva, who was still on the ground; her eyes fixed on the gravel under her hands. "Is your revenge really worth losing the only family you have left?"
Fergus stared past the two men at the retreating form of the elf, then back at his sister. "No," he said quietly, returning his sword to its scabbard. "It's not." He knelt on the ground at Zeva's side and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Let's get you inside, Zee Zee," he said quietly. "You need to rest." As he started to lift her to her feet, she pushed him away.
"Stop, Fergus," she whispered. "I need to be alone for a while. I need to think. I need…"
… Zevran, her heart screamed.
Sten brushed Fergus aside and reached down, lifting Zeva from the ground with ease. She fell against his chest, sighing heavily.
"I will take her to her room," the qunari announced. He climbed the broad staircase, stopping next to Leliana and Duncan. "You come too, bard," he said. "I think the females should be left to deal with this." Without another word, he stepped through the door into the cool interior of the castle.
"What do I do now, Leli?" Duncan asked quietly. The Warden Commander had watched the scene unfold below him in the courtyard with the heaviest of hearts. The outcome was just as he knew it would be. He was certain that Zeva would never kill the elf; regardless of his crimes. She cared for him far too much.
"I'll stay with her tonight, if that's alright with you," Leliana replied, wiping tears from her eyes. "She has been betrayed horribly by someone she cares a great deal for, and she will need to talk about it with someone who won't pass judgment on her decisions. Please forgive me for saying that, but we both know how you feel about Zevran. By morning, she should be much better. After all, we are speaking of Zeva, aren't we? No matter how deep her pain, she won't allow anything to come before her duty to this kingdom."
"Does she love him, Leli?" he asked, his hands clenched painfully at his sides.
The bard smiled, running her hand down his arm. "Zevran will always hold a special place in Zeva's heart, Duncan," she answered softly. "You and I have known this since the night you were reunited with her in the dining hall of this castle. But if you are asking if those feelings outweigh those she has for you, the answer is no. I see how much she adores you every time she looks at you. That, my dear Warden Commander, will never change." Reaching up, the bard placed a soft kiss on Duncan's cheek and entered the castle.
Duncan looked toward the castle courtyard. All was once again quiet, the companions having retired to their rooms to ponder the events of the day. His eyes lingered on path that led away from the village. Though the assassin had disappeared into the shadows, Duncan knew that he hadn't seen the last of Zevran Arainai.