Night and Day
Oh yeah. I pwn. I GOT 8 REVIEWS, 2 FAVORITES, 3 ALERTS. HOW AWESOME IS THAT? CALL ME PATHETIC, BUT THAT'S THE BIGGEST AMOUNT OF REVIEWS/FAVES/ALERTS COMBINED I'VE EVER GOTTEN FOR ONE STORY.
Ahem, anyways. Ahhhhh, I couldn't stand writing passive-Zevran. Especially when I imagine him saying, "Ah, a battle it is!" (like he does in fights) to Alistair. That, and people were asking me to. So... yeah. They're gonna fight over Lerein, who is still emo-sad over Tamlen.
Tamleeeeeen... ;-;
I must say I am happy to have submitted to the DA:O archive of FF-net. I do my fandom proud, I hope. :D
As the last two Grey Wardens, along with Zevran and Wynne, traveled the Brecillian Forest, all was quiet. Unnervingly and awkwardly so. After Alistair had asked his question, he had run off into his tent, and didn't come out until Morrigan threatened to turn his brain into a cat and his stomach into a bird. He couldn't keep the thought from springing into his mind every now and then, 'I could never replace Tamlen.'
"Halt!" Alistair looked up from his boots to see Mithra, the Dalish clan's defender. "Oh, it's you. Would you like to see Keeper Lanaya?" she asked. Lerein shook his head, saying he was just visiting. The group entered the camp, and walked around. Wynne smiled to herself when she saw Cammen and Gheyna not far away; she was kissing him, most likely for that pelt in his hand. Lerein sat next to Sarel, the village story-teller. "Hello again, lethallin." (Alistair noticed the wince. He was still heartbroken over Tamlen, it would seem.) "Would you like to hear another story?"
Lerein shook his head, "No, thank you. But I was wondering... have you heard any word from my clan? I met the messenger a few weeks ago that was going to look for other clans, and I... was thinking that–,"
"Well, we might have! Two clans arrived yesterday! I can take you to them," said the elven woman around the fire excitedly. (You could practically see the hope bursting on Lerein's face.) He stood up, and looked back when no one followed. "Is something wrong?" Wynne shook her head and smiled softly at him, "Go on without us. We'd feel like intruders if we were to go with you." Lerein frowned. Then he turned to Zevran, "Will you come with me at least?" Alistair felt a pang of envy – and he vaguely wondered if he were an elf (ha!), if he would be invited like that.
Zevran blinked a few times in confusion, "You want me to come with you?" Lerein bit his lip, and Zevran caught on. Lerein was afraid he would break down and start crying if he was alone, in a place he used to call home, the place he was forced to leave. Zevran smiled, and got up from the ground. "As you wish."
Sadly, the first one was a bust. Lerein recognized absolutely no one. Not even the keeper. And he knew if Keeper Marethari had fallen, Merrill would have succeeded her. No, this was not his clan. However, when they reached the land set for the second clan to arrive, Lerein heard a very familiar voice call his name. "Fenarel?" Lerein's Dalish friend ran up to him and Zevran. He ran his hand through his hair multiple times, and grinned at Lerein and Zevran dully noted that this friend of Lerein's hadn't given him a glance. "Hello, lethallin." Lerein took a deep breath. "Fenarel, is Keeper Marethari here? I must speak with her."
Fenarel sighed, the grin on his face falling. "She... has died. She spent herself protecting us from the great evil we had no idea was even attacking. She fell, and now Merrill is the new keeper. If you would like I could take you to her?" Lerein nodded.
"Lerein? Is that really you?" Merrill's eyes were wide open, staring at said elf in surprise. He nodded, and she rushed forward, hugging the warrior. Zevran frowned when he noticed Lerein darkening (due to lack of air, of course). She finally let him go, expression turning serious. "You want to ask me something. What is it, lethallin?" Both the keeper, and the assassin gasped when they noticed tears in Lerein's eyes. Zevran rushed to his side, about to stroke his hair, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear to calm him. Lerein only shook his head, and lightly pushed Zevran away, "I... Tamlen. He's dead. He's really dead." Merrill's jaw dropped, "He was alive? After all this time?"
"He..." Lerein's voice died. He looked to Zevran with a hopeful look. The Antivan nodded, "Tamlen had been tainted by the Blight for however long, and changed. He was corrupted, and... he was killed."
'He doesn't know the whole story... I must talk to her in private!' thought Lerein desperately. He turned to Zevran and whispered, "Zevran, would you mind finding a woman named Ashalle? She was the one who raised me, and I have a few questions." He nodded, and sauntered off.
"He doesn't know, does he? That outsider?" Merrill muttered. Her companion shook his head, "No. Not yet. Hopefully not ever." Merrill nodded, and motioned for him to follow her into the keeper tent. Inside, Lerein noticed that Merrill had kept everything that Keeper Marethari had owned. The vials of blue liquid that he couldn't name before he knew now as lyrium potions. The small boxes of varied colored powder were salves, color determining their nature. The scrolls that belonged to the old keeper were kept safely in a chest on the left, while items taken from elves that had belonged to humans were in a chest on the right. He gulped when he saw several ale and wine bottles, some unopened.
"What really happened, Lerein? Your friend didn't tell me everything." Merrill sat on the floor, and Lerein followed, sitting across from her. He took a deep breath and held back some tears.
"Our camp was attacked by darkspawn about a week ago, and..." Lerein told the story blank and monotone. As he carried on, his tone became melancholy. At some point, Lerein had completely broken down, and Merrill pulled him down, and let him rest in her lap.
"And Alistair..." The mage stroked the hair of the man whose head was in her lap. "Alistair killed him."
"Oh, lethallin... I'm so sorry..." Merrill muttered. She wiped away his tears and snot with a rag, and continued petting his hair. "Lethallin..." Merrill opened her mouth to sing. Her voice carried lightly, surely gathering the attention of elves outside the tent, but they did not interrupt her.
"Hahren, na melana sahlin.
Emma ir abelas.
Souver'inan isala hamin.
Vhenan him dor'felas.
In uthenera na revas.
Vir sulahn'nehn.
Vir dirthera.
Vir samahl la numin.
Vir lath sa'vunin."
"Souver'inan isala hamin. Sleep, lethallin." Lerein heeded her word, and let his eyelids fall. His eyes hurt, his head hurt, his body hurt, and he just wanted to sleep.
And he did.
Zevran left the tent, disgruntled at leaving Lerein alone, and afraid he'd start crying again. He decided to find the Ashalle woman quickly, so he could return to his love's side. He looked for the nearest elf, a young boy he was, and asked, "Excuse me, do you know where I could find a woman by the name of Ashalle?" The elf blinked at him a couple of times. "Ashalle? She, er... I think she went to see... the bow maker... yes!" Zevran thanked the lad, and walked off. Then he realized that he didn't know who the bow maker even was. He looked around, and saw an old man telling two little girl twins. He walked up to the man, and was about to ask him where he could find the bow maker. But before he could, the man turned to him and asked, "Excuse me, but you wouldn't happen to know the history of the Dales, do you?" Zevran professed to knowing vaguely what happened.
"Would you mind telling these troublemakers exactly why we travel, wander, and do not interact with shemlen?" he asked. Zevran nodded, and told the story.
Halamshiral was the home of the elves when they were originally slaves to the Tenvinter Imperium. The Dales where given to them when they aided Andraste and her followers in their battle against the Tenvinters. Eventually, human missionaries started coming to Halamshiral, followed by templars. An Exalted March was declared, and the Dalish were scattered, some escaping and living in cities, while the Dalish chose to wander, and keep their culture and lore alive. "That is why the Dalish are called the Wanderers of the Lonely Path, Keepers of the Lost Lore; they are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall they submit."
The elder man was impressed, saying, "You know much of the Dalish, outsider. How, may I ask, did you learn this?" Zevran smiled softly, and said, "My... friend, Lerei–," he gasped, remembering what he was doing there in the first place. "Excuse me, do you know where the bow maker is?"
"Ilen? I believe he is near the hunter apprentices, over there." He pointed westward, and Zevran ran off.
Alistair was bored. And extremely uncomfortable. Wynne had expressed wanting to see Aneirin once again, and he followed her to make sure she didn't get injured on the way there. Now he sat awkwardly on what remained of a cut-down tree, listening in on their conversation, want for something better to do. The two mages of different origins had been "catching up" for an hour. And Alistair was bored!
He started thinking about what Zevran and Lerein were doing. What could the devilish elf be doing to his poor Lerein? He could get raped again, for all he knew! Alistair wanted to run to him, without stopping, and just hold him forever. Just hold him tightly, and wipe away his sadness, and make him forget about Tamlen. In a way, Alistair was infuriated by Tamlen. He had caused Lerein so much pain and heartbreak. He sighed, and leaned back, and realized too late he was sitting on a stump, not a chair, and landing on his back with a sharp pain on his head. "OW!" Alistair's eyes shut in pain, and his teeth tightly clenched.
"Are you alright, Alistair?" Wynne's grandmotherly voice was heard, and Alistair opened his eyes. Aneirin and Wynne had concern etched into their expressions. The warrior nodded, and got back up. Aneirin chuckled a little, "Did you do that on purpose? Ha ha, it sure looked like you did!" Alistair glared at the pair laughing – more like giggling – at him. He got back onto the stump, and pondered on what exactly Lerein was doing at the moment. He guessed the elf had found his clan. Maybe now he could get some closure. He never really told Alistair about his childhood. The fact he'd told him about that thing with Tamlen was a mystery in itself.
"No way, Wynne."
"Let's ask Alistair, then." Alistair turned around at the mention of his name. "Alistair, who would win in a fight, Aneirin or I?"
Alistair stared at them, deadpanned.
"Excuse me," Zevran felt like he'd been saying that phrase all day, "but is your name Ashalle?" The old woman looked at the Antivan elf in surprise. "How do you know my name?" she asked.
"Lerein wants to speak with you."
Merrill glanced one more time at her old friend. He'd changed. His features were a little more soft, his eyes a little more wizened, his hair a little longer, and he was, she'd daresay, a bit taller, too. He slept soundly on a bedroll she pulled out. One thing that didn't change was the little sounds he made in his sleep. The strange ones that kind of sounded like mice. No matter how many people, creatures, or darkspawn he killed, he was still the same old Lerein that Merrill knew. The one that was deathly scared of spiders (the small ones, not the bigs ones), never went swimming, preferred hunting with Tamlen to helping the clan any day, and had a silly love for bears and their cubs.
She smiled sadly, his loss had really broken him. He wasn't nearly as happy as he had been (whether he showed it or not back then) when they were children. She let the tarp close behind her, and when she turned around, she saw Zevran and Ashalle approach. "Ah, hello, out–."
"What happened? Where's Lerein?" Zevran insisted. Merrill's smile turned to a frown, "He's asleep right now, and he cannot be disturbed." Zevran sighed exasperatedly.
"Can I see him?" Zevran asked. Merrill's eyebrows turned upwards, and the saddest eyes stared at Zevran pleadingly, "Please don't wake him. He needs time in the Beyond to sort things through. He can't understand that, at the moment, he has others who love him... Andaran atish'an, outsider." The keeper walked away, towards the clan's storyteller. Ashalle, finding no reason to stay as her adoptive son was asleep, left as well.
Zevran walked into the tent, awed by the many bottles and boxes and artifacts and scrolls. He looked down, and saw Lerein, sleeping soundly with the adorable squeaky sounds. He knelt down and ran his fingers through the broken elf's light brown hair. Lerein muttered something in elvish, and turned, allowing Zevran to see his face. He gasped; Lerein's face was red, and dried tears remained on his cheeks.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you."
An hour later, Lerein had woken up, and was practically back to normal. He wasn't as silent anymore, at least. He and Zevran walked back to Lanaya's clan, and were surprised that Wynne and Alistair weren't there. Although, it was expected. Two humans weren't exactly comfortable in a Dalish camp, even if the elves were. Lerein got word from Sarel that they had left the settlement to see Wynne's old apprentice, Aneirin. He thanked him, and they left, wandering into the forest, and taking the scenic route to Aneirin's camp.
However, when they reached the western crossroad, they were stopped by a group of bandits (at least, they looked like bandits). The woman in the middle had her arms crossed, and she stared at the elves with contempt and an obvious self-confidence. She was human, with darker tan skin, and red tattoos on her cheeks and eyes the same color as the pond behind her. Her dark brunette hair was cut short, and some fell in between her eyes. "The Crows send their regards, Warden." She eyed Zevran, as a cat would a dog, "Ah, hello Zevran. Long time, no see. Joined the Grey Warden have you?"
"Kaia, I can't believe you accepted the job. You're a worse assassin than I am, what hope do you have?" Zevran growled out. Kaia's smile widened, and she waved off the comment, saying, "Honestly, I'm glad. I was waiting for a reason to kill you, whoreson. Our master sent us, mostly to fill out Loghain's order, but also to find out what happened to you... And a good assassin doesn't need secrecy." With that, she ran forward, two personally crafted twin daggers in her hands. Her accomplices branched out and surrounded them. Nine Crows surrounded Lerein and Zevran and Kaia stood in front of them.
"This might not be good," muttered Zevran. "She might be worse than me, but she is by no means, bad. She doesn't have a fighting style, she fights on instinct, using every technique in the book in any order she feels like."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning she's unpredictable. Even if we defeat her, we'd be overwhelmed by the rest..." Lerein looked at him, wearing the same smile he wore before any battle. He pulled out his silverite Saw Swords and said, "A battle it is! Right, Zevran?" Zevran stared at his companion, and regained his cocky smirk, "Right."
"Attack!"
Kaia giggled, and leaped towards Zevran, starting out with a sweep of her daggers, and knocking Lerein's balance off at the same time. He almost fell over, using one sword as support. Zevran had dodged the daggers, and slammed the hilt into Kaia's back, forcing her to the ground, where she quickly rolled to her right, and slashed Zevran's leg. He held in a cry and kicked her away from him. As soon as she got up, she felt a blade rip through her back. Unfortunately, it wasn't deep enough to do too much damage. She laughed and said challengingly, "That all you got?" She spun around and kicked Zevran in the head, effectively stunning him, and ducked through Lerein's legs, and stabbing a dagger into his armor's weak point. He yelped in pain, but his warrior's discipline didn't let him succumb to it. He pulled out the dagger lodged in his hip, and he realized it was covered in a poison, probably added mid-battle.
Lerein fell to his knees, dropping his swords to the ground, and fell, coughing blood. Zevran, regaining his senses, reopened his eyes. He saw Kaia laughing and pointing to the ground. When he looked to where she was pointing, he saw his friend's unmoving body. Adrenaline pumped into his veins, a sick feeling grew in his stomach, and a roaring flame raged in his heart. He flew at Kaia, sword and dagger high in the air, and he slashed her right arm. She made a grunting sound, dropping both daggers and gripping her new cut with her left hand. She quickly realized that was a bad idea, because Zevran was soon right behind her, and she felt the dagger behind her heart, and the sword on her throat.
For the first time in her life, she felt fear.
"You will pay for your crimes, Kaia. May the Maker forgive you, for I never will." Zevran ran the sword through her throat and shoved the dagger into her heart. He gave her the mercy of dying a quick death. She fell next to Lerein.
"Mistress Kaia!" Zevran remembered the rest of the assassins. He couldn't take all nine be himself!
But he would try. For Lerein.
"Attack!" Alistair and Wynne were at attention at the sound of Lerein's battle cry. Alistair was already up and running by the time Wynne told Aneirin they had to leave. He whipped through the trees low branches and bushes, even in his heavy Warden armor. He reached the area he heard him, and saw exactly this; Zevran hovering next to Lerein, unconscious, and fighting nine rogues at once. He gasped, and ran into battle immediately. The first he killed didn't see him. He cut through her neck easily, and her body fell on the ground while her head rolled around.
Some were alerted, but the rest were too focused on Zevran. The four that took notice attacked him simultaneously. Strength in numbers, it would seem. Alistair bashed his shield against two of them, knocking them over. One of the rogues finally hit a soft spot in his seemingly flawless armor. It didn't do much damage, a tiny little stab, probably wouldn't need tending to later. He turned and stabbed the one who hit in the heart, and he died as well.
Zevran finished off the last of the assassins attacking him, and landed an excellently wonderful back stab on a rogue that had gotten up from being knocked over, killing his target immediately. The last two rogues looked at each other with fright, and both ran away. Zevran grabbed the neck of one just before he got away. He whispered menacingly, "Tell your Master Kaia was killed by the Grey Warden, and the Grey Warden killed me as well. Got it?" The assassin nodded, and when released, ran off like a squirrel.
"Zevran, what happen–?"
"We'll talk abut it later." Zevran's usual playful smirk was replaced by a grim frown. He ran to Lerein and flipped him over. Blood and bile were trailing from his mouth. He coughed and more flowed out. "Alistair, we have to take him back to camp."
"He can't travel in that state," Wynne appeared. She pulled out a health poultice and forced it down Lerein's throat. The fallen warrior groaned, as the health poultice started to effect him. The grandmotherly mage looked up at Alistair and asked him to carry Lerein to camp, "I don't have enough materials here."
Sat in their usual places around the fire, Alistair and Zevran worried about Lerein. 'Is he okay?' the main question running through their minds. Alistair picked at the lightly torn sleeve of his Templar tunic. A nervous habit he had in camp. Zevran was polishing his daggers. The blood of the Crow's earlier was stubbornly
They both stood up immediately when Wynne finally left the tent.
"Is he alright?!" they asked in unison. She sighed and looked at them pointedly, "He will live, but not if you two visit at the same time. Only one can go tonight. No other visitors until morning." Alistair and Zevran looked at each other competitively. 'What right does Alistair have to see him first? He has done nothing to help him.' (As you can see, Zevran was blatantly ignoring the help given earlier that day.) Alistair, however, worriedly walked into the tent before Zevran could do anything about it.
Inside, Lerein slept peacefully. He was out of his armor, and his waist was wrapped in bandages. Cloth shorts were all he wore. Wynne had done a fine job. Alistair sat next to his unconscious body and stared. What was he thinking? He'd gone in here on instinct, and realized he hadn't even talked since...
"If... if I could ever replace Tamlen..."
Alistair shook his head frantically. He sighed. "Lerein..." Lerein stirred a little. Alistair jumped and clapped a hand over his mouth. 'Oops... Better be quiet...' Alistair wondered what had happened. Zevran never told him, and he was too scared to ask. What happened to Lerein? Alistair guessed he got stabbed or something.
"Alistair..?" Alistair gasped when he heard his name. He looked down at Lerein, and saw the warrior was looking up at him, a confused expression. "Where..." He started coughing. Alistair placed his hand on his left shoulder. He eventually stopped, and looked back up at his visitor. They were silent for a while (and Alistair removed his hand once Lerein pointed it out).
"... I found my clan today. I talked to Merrill about... what happened. I... came to terms with Tamlen's death in the Beyond... It's okay now. Tamlen... I realized I was not worthy enough for Tamlen. He was too–."
"Of course you're worthy, Lerein! If anything, Tamlen isn't worthy of you! Especially with what he did to you! ... I don't deserve you, that's for sure."
"Alistair, I..." Lerein took a deep breath, "Alistair, I don't know if I could... And besides, you're going to be king. What would the people think of a king with an elf that can't get over himself?" Alistair closed his eyes. "Lerein, I love you more than anyone I have ever met in my life. You probably don't believe me, but... look. I know it hasn't been very long. We only met a few months ago, but... I think I honestly... love you." His eyes opened. Lerein was facing away from him.
"You don't meant that." Lerein shook his head. "You don't love me."
"But I do."
"No, you don't!" Lerein turned to Alistair, hurt in his eyes, "Alistair, I know what it is to love. You cannot mean it! ... Leave." And he left.
The end. How fun was that ending?
This chapter's a bit filler-y, I apologize. And Kaia's my human noble, but I made her join the Crows... because... er... I blame Glass Sugar! And for some reason, in my game, Lerein would always become incapacitated (die) at least once fighting rogues. Zevran would kill enemies faster than Alistair. And I'm sure people actually sniff health poultices. Like crack cocaine. ;D (And as promised, Glassy, you get to choose the outcome of this. Does Lerein accept Alistair? Or will he have to fight for him? OR will Zevran get him?)
Ahem, anyways. The next chapter will come out around........... a few days or so after Christmas. Yes. :D
-nx.