Eriana and Zevran had been sparing every evening since the party left Redcliff. Each night as the other members of their group went about their daily business, the two elves would face off against each other. Originally, Alistair had vehemently protested to this arrangement. When Eriana suggested it as they were preparing to leave the town, Alistair pulled her to the side and offered to train her himself. After she pointed out the fact that she didn't use a shield and that his strategy of slamming into things till they fell over weren't exactly an effective tactic for her, he begrudgingly relented and agreed that she should train with the assassin. For the first three days, Alistair sat and watched their practice sessions, wincing and grunting at each of Zevran's lewd innuendos, and he always whisked Eriana away as soon as the two elves were done, usually shooting Zevran a nasty look as they walked away. For Eriana, the tension between the two men was palpable, making it hard for her to concentrate, so for the sake of her own sanity, she asked Alistair to give them some distance when they spared. He still watched from a distance, afraid to leave Eriana alone for too long in the assassin's presence.
Once Alistair let them be, sparing because a truly enjoyable experience for Eriana. She began to look forward to the one on one time that she spent with Zevran each day, and Alistair's absence from their sessions brought about a noticeable change in Zevran's demeanor. He was still flirtatious, but his comments had lost the lewd tenor that had seemed to dominate their conversation. It didn't take Eriana long to realize that the crude comments were not intended for her at all; Zevran just enjoyed watching Alistair squirm when he said something inappropriate. Now that Alistair was gone, Eriana was beginning to see a different side of the suave Antivan. The crude and arrogant playboy disappeared when they fought, replaced by a focused and confident assassin, and Eriana could see exactly why the Cows were a thing to be feared. In fact, Eriana truly started to wonder how she was able to defeat Zevran when they first met. He moved with such deadly speed and precision when he fought that he easily disarmed her a few minutes into their first sparing match. More than once, Eriana found herself flat on her back with the smiling assassin crouched over her saying, "come, come, you can do better than that." And she did; she learned quickly, and by the end of the first week, their final practice session was consumed by as single bout, his twin blades clashing against her sword and dagger for at least a half an hour before Eriana finally landed a hit on Zevran. The two elves practically collapsed beside each other, sweaty and exhausted.
"Well, my dear, I am either a ridiculously awesome teacher, or you are a quick study," said Zevran as he finished the last of his water from his flagon. "Did your mother teach you to move the way that you do in a fight?"
Eriana nodded, "Why? Was I doing something wrong?"
"Not at all; in fact, most of what you are doing is very right. You move very much like a Crow; it's almost like you've had Crow training yourself. I was just curious as to where you learned to move that way."
"My mother taught me to fight like a Crow? How so?"
Zevran shrugged, "It's more of a style, a way of orienting yourself to your target and maneuvering behind to find and exploit vulnerable points. The basics that they teach us early on in our training." He glanced over at her, "You said that you doubted that your mother was Fereldan, no? She did teach you Antivan as well. Perhaps she was a Crow herself."
Eriana seemed to shudder at the thought, "That would explain things, that's true, but it leaves more questions than answers. You told me that the Crows don't simply let you leave the order, right?" Zevran nodded. "Well, how did she come to live in Denerim then? It's not like she could just run away; they'd find her. You said that they were very good at that." She ran her fingers though her hair, pushing it out of her face before she tied it up into a loose ponytail. "There are just so many things I wish I could ask her now. I was just so naïve at fourteen; I didn't realize how different she truly was." She was about to say more when she noticed Alistair walking toward them. She glanced at Zevran and nodded toward Alistair. "We'll talk more later," she said, getting to her feet. "You have fist watch tonight right?" Zevran nodded, "I'll see you then." And with that, she walked away toward Alistair.
Alistair spent the entire evening by the campfire with Eriana. She realized that she was being very unfair to him, that she simply needed to end things with him, to make a clean break. It was just so hard to actually do it. She had tried to distance herself from him over the past week, spending more time with the other members of the party, but that only made him more attentive when they were together. The fact that Alistair had been unendingly patient with her increasingly distant attitude made her feel even worse. But Alistair hadn't questioned anything; he remained sweet, affectionate, and supportive in spite of everything.
As he got up to turn in for the night, Alistair looked down at her. "I know something is bothering you, and I can't pretend to know what it is," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Just know this, whatever it is, I'm here for you. We're in this together, till the end. Whenever you're ready to talk, we'll talk." With that, he gave her a light kiss on the forehead and disappeared into his tent.
Eriana slid off the fallen log that she had been sitting on and pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her head in her arms. She was ashamed of herself for letting this go on, ashamed of her own weakness; she couldn't afford to be weak, not now, not when so much was riding on her. Deep in her thoughts, she didn't realize Zevran approached until she felt his warm, rough hands on her shoulders. She sighed and leaned back against his legs as he sat on down on the log behind her.
"You must think me terribly weak, Zev," she said, as he began to work on the tension in her shoulders, gently massaging out the day's tension.
"Why would you think that, my dear?"
"I can't bring myself to hurt him; it is just so hard. I know what I must do; the arrow is notched, the bow is drawn, but I can't make myself release it." She glanced over her shoulder at Alistair's tent, "He's lost so much in the past few months, and he's so pitiful when he's hurt. I can't bear to add to that. You don't think poorly of me, do you?"
"Of course not, and I don't think you are weak. You are among the strongest people that I have ever met; you have taken on a great burden for one so young without complaint and have done what you believe to be right without fail. This is the first time I have ever seen you falter. And yet, you do it out of compassion for one you care for, not for yourself." He ran his fingers through her long blond hair before returning his attention to the tense muscles at her neck. "You have great compassion, and that does not make you weak. It could be seen as a weakness, yes, but do we not all have such weaknesses? No one is perfect; we are all afforded at least one flaw or two. But your weakness makes you the extraordinary woman that you are, and I for one am grateful for it; after all, your compassion did save my life, no?"
"I guess," she said, not at all convinced.
"Your compassion makes you who you are, but you don't let it control you or override your better judgment. If I were to wager a guess, I would say that your empathy is a byproduct of your upbringing. Being raised in the ailenage forces you to consider the plight of others; a society in such a condition would fall apart without such attitudes, yes? You live with the same people your entire life, so it would not be wise to simply dismiss their pain without a second thought. Life is quite different among those of us who are not so tightly bound to each other; we can afford to shut out the pain of others."
Eriana was quiet for a moment, considering what Zevran said. He was the only case where her sympathy overrode her common sense. Allowing him to live was a dangerous decision for her, but it was one she did not regret. It was nice to have another elf around; after living her entire life in the company of elves, being around so many humans had been unnerving for her, though she would never had admitted it. Zevran's presence had become a great source of comfort for her, especially as the two of them had grown closer. Perhaps he was right; living in the alienage had forced her to be compassionate in many ways. She found herself wondering how different life could have been for her had she been born elsewhere.
"Is it hard, Zev; being a Crow, I mean?" she asked, turning to look up at him. "And I don't mean the killing people; I know your feelings about that. I mean, is it hard to go through life without that kind of closeness?"
"For me, no, not exactly, but I did begin my training very young. I was only six when the Crows bought me from the whores, and since then, I have been taught to forego feelings of love and affection. I find pleasures where they can be had, and that's all I expect from life. It would be a very hard life for someone such as you, someone who cares so much about those around her."
"Sometimes I wish for that. I wish for a life where I don't care so much; then it wouldn't hurt so much to lose them. I feel like my life thus far has been consumed by loss, the loss of my mother, my brother, my home; and I feel every one of those losses. Sometimes I wish I could shut it out, numb myself to it."
Zevran slipped off the log and onto the ground behind her, putting his arms around her. "No, you don't wish that," he whispered into her ear. He pulled out a golden coin and placed it in her hand, "tell me, what do you see here?"
"It's a coin," she said, unsure where he was going with this.
"No, look at the coin. What do you see?"
She held the coin up in front of her. It was Antivan, no doubt about that. One side of the coin had an image of some kind of flower that she did not recognize. Turning it over in her hand, she noticed the second side had a man's picture stamped into it, but it scratched up so badly that she couldn't make out the man's features. "One side is beautiful while the other side is scarred and damaged. I don't understand," she said, handing it back to him.
Zevran placed the coin, scarred side up, in the palm of her hand and ran his thumb around the edges of it as he cradled her hand. "This side has been damaged; it has endured great hardship that has permanently scarred it, changed it in much the way the hardships in your life have changed you. You have endured much hurt and felt much pain in your life, and that, in part, has made you who you are. When you care about people in your life, you inevitability suffer the pain of loss." Then he turned the coin over in her hand so she could see the other side. "But with that loss comes so much more. You forget that there is another side to the pain, there is the love, the joy. You wouldn't feel the loss if you didn't have something worth losing, no?" He closed her hand around the coin and pulled her tightly to his chest. "I have heard you talk about your memories of your family, and I know that you wouldn't trade them for the world. You once asked me if I had ever known joy in my life; I have not, not in the way you have. To be a Crow, I gave up those kinds of feelings so that I could be a more efficient killer, but you, you have experienced love and joy the likes of which I have never and will never know. I ask you this, would you sacrifice those moments to be rid of the pain because you cannot have one without the other."
She thought about the ailenage for a moment, remembering the smell of Shianni's cookies, the songs they sang around the fires during Winter Solstice, the sound of her brother's laughter. Her eyes began to tear up, but she refused to cry. Of course she would not trade those moments for anything, they were precious to her even if they were bitter sweet at times. "You're right," she said, "I wouldn't trade them for all of Thedas." She sighed, "But I could still do without the hurting. I sometimes wish I was born anywhere but in an alienage. Perhaps my life would have been easier."
"There is pain everywhere, mia cara. It is a shame, though, that you were born somewhere where you were so underappreciated. The fools in Denerim had no idea the precious jewel that resided in their presence. Any civilized nation would have recognized your potential immediately. Had you been born in Orlais, for instance, you would have no doubt been selected to train as a bard, a deadly seductress and spy, moving fluidly through the grandest courts in the land enlisted to do the bidding of kings and emperors. And should you have been born in Antiva, the Crows would have most definitely recruited you. Your marks would fall at your feet before they ever met your daggers." Duncan was very smart when he recruited you," he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.
Eriana laughed quietly, "Right, and why would that be exactly?"
"He saw that the true potential in you was wasted scraping together a living in the back streets of Denerim. Even being raised in such meager surroundings, you managed to rise above your state, and yet you still sell yourself short. Don't doubt yourself, my Warden."
As Eriana thought about what he was saying, she sank back into Zevran's chest; being there, in his arms felt like home. His arms around here were strong, but not overpowering like Alistair's could be. She liked the way her head felt on his chest; it wasn't so broad that she felt lost against it, but she fit against it perfectly. His words were comforting to her, but not trite or so affectionate that they seemed insincere. She took a deep breath, taking in his sent, leather and spices.
As she was lost in her thoughts, he continued to speak, softly in her ear. "You seem to forget that you possess the very qualities that make men go weak at the very sight of you; even those of us who have worked to sill ourselves against such influences," he said as he began to kiss her neck, just beneath her ear. Eriana felt her heart rate begin to quicken, her breath begin to still as he moved slowly down her neck to her collarbone, leaving a trail of fire behind wherever his lips touched. All thoughts of Alistair were banished from her mind as her mind and body focused on the Antivan who held her in his arms. She arched her back instinctively drawing herself even closer to him, cocking her head so that he could have better access to her neck and shoulder as his arms tightened around her waist. She closed her eyes, allowing her hand to snake up into his hair as he continued his ministrations on her neck. His lips were doing things that she never imagined lips could do, and she found herself wondering what his lips tasted like. "You are an exquisite creature," he breathed into her ear as worked his way back up to the tip of her ear, and her entire body shuddered. She was about to turn around to return the kiss when she heard some clear their throat. Her eyes shot open to find Sten standing over them, a stern look on his face.
"I believe being on watch work best when one's eyes are open, Warden," he said before walking across camp. Eriana could feel her entire face redden as she turned to look up at the grinning Antivan behind her.
"I had my eyes open the whole time, though, granted I was not watching for bandits or darkspawn," he said as he winked then released his hold on her. Eriana was sure that she was red from her neck to her hairline. She tried to stand up, only to find that her legs had fallen asleep. She stumbled into Zevran's arms, and he grinned down at her again, "Coming back for more so soon? I am happy to oblige, of course."
"No doubt, but what would Sten think? He already doubts my abilities as a leader." Eriana smiled as she managed to steady herself. "We may have caused enough scandal for one night, though." She looked down at the gold coin that was still clutched in her hand, pain and joy, one coin with two sides. She glanced up at Zevran, realizing that he could be a source for both in her life. He and Alistair both had the potential for causing her great pain, but they could both bring her joy. A new question would haunt her sleep tonight, was she willing to risk it with Zevran? She started to hand Zevran the coin back, but he closed her hand back around it.
"Keep it, mia cara. Goodnight." And with that, he disappeared into his tent, leaving her more confused and with more questions than ever.
Thank you to all of you who have been reviewing. It's been nice to know that people are actually reading. Let me know what you think.