Zevran looked cautiously over at Eriana as she spoke with a young, red-headed elven woman who was apparently her cousin, though Zevran couldn't see any family resemblance. Eriana's face was drawn, anger and stress clearly painted across her delicate features as she listened to Shianni's account of the trouble facing the Alienage. The more Shianni spoke, the more tense Eriana seemed to become, her hands balled into fists as she rolled up on the balls of her feet as if she was about to spring into action. He was so focused on Eriana that he almost missed an important piece of information.

"Oh, cousin, you have no idea…the things that happened after your wedding," Shianni sighed, "I'm babbling aren't I? I'm just so happy to see you."

Zevran spoke before he could stop himself. "A wedding? So there is a secretive side to you after all."

Eriana flinched slightly when she heard his voice, then she shook her head and looked back at him. "It's not exactly something I like to talk about, Zev," she said as she fiddled with the ring on her left hand.

"I see," he answered quietly, his eyes locked on the plain silver ring she was playing with, her wedding ring. Was her husband among those who had disappeared into the hospice, never to return? Was that was so upsetting to her, why she was so reluctant to return to the Alienage? Perhaps she was ashamed to return to him with Zevran, evidence of her infidelity, in tow. A near-crippling feeling of betrayal and jealousy welled up in his chest as he stared at her back as she turned back to her cousin. Why would she keep this from him after everything that she had told him? All of a sudden, it was difficult for him to concentrate. All he wanted to do was find this man, her husband, and…what? What would he do then? Kill him? Apologize? Did he hate him, this unknown man who was married to his Warden; was he envious of him and his good fortune of securing her love? Yes and yes. Suddenly, his feelings for her no longer mattered; she had a life to return to, a life apart from him. Suddenly, he was no longer needed, and that fact made him sick.

Eriana's voice suddenly broke him from his deliberations. "Here," she said, as handed Zevran her sword, "I'm going in."

"You're what?"

"I'm going to those mages to see what they're doing. I'm getting in that hospice." She turned to her cousin. "Isn't there a side entrance to that building, around by the alley?" Shianni nodded slowly. "Good, I want you to take them over there while I get inside."

"What?" Zevran snapped harshly. "Have you been listening to your cousin at all? People go in there and never come out. Please tell me you realize what is going on here."

Eriana glared at him. "Of course I realize what's going on. Why do you think I want to get inside? I need proof of this," she snapped at him. Then her stern face dropped as did her voice. "I have to get them back; they're my friends, my neighbors…my father," she almost whispered. "If they are after strong elves, they'll take me in a heartbeat. Then I'll have proof."

Zevran shook his head, "Then you'll be dead or captured. Let me go in first, and you lead the others in through the side."

Eriana looked at him for a moment, her face stern. "No, we do this my way. This is my home, my mess, and I'm going to fix it. Just get in there to back me up as quickly as possible, got it?" Zevran sighed and nodded; there was no talking her out of this one. "Good, then I'll see you inside," and with that she disappeared into the crowd, headed toward the mages at the entrance to the hospice. Zevran sighed, this day was not turning out at all like he had expected.

"Maker's breath," Shianni said once they reached the relative seclusion of the alley, "What happened to her?" Zevran and Ogren looked over at her, confused looks on her faces. "Is she always so forceful?"

Zevran laughed for a moment. "She's your cousin, surely you know by now how normal this behavior is for her."

Shianni shook her head, "No it this isn't like her at all. I mean all my life I've been standing up for her, and she's been letting people just walk all over her. I've never seen her just take command like that. I mean, she let those noble shems walk all over her for years, and Soris and I had to take care of her. How long has she been like this?"

Zevran and Ogren glanced back at Wynne as she spoke up. "I met her just after she joined the order, and I remember being impressed by how she conducted herself in camp at Ostagar with such confidence. Perhaps simply being forced to leave home changed her more than we realized."

Zevran tried to imagine a docile, passive Eriana, and found it quite difficult. She was always so strong, so in control. He couldn't imagine an Eriana who was willing to hand over the reins to anyone or to allow anyone to stand up for her. What happened between here and Ostagar that changed her so much? How was it that he knew so little about a woman with whom he had spent so much time? Just then, he heard shouting inside the building. His Warden needed him.

So he thought. It turns out, Eriana didn't need him nearly as much as he imagined. It took him only a few seconds to pick the simple lock on the door, but by the time he and his companions entered, after ordering Shianni to remain in the alley, Eriana had killed most of the guards in the building. A ring of dead bodies lay around her as she stood in the center of the room, her hands clutching a pair of daggers that were slowly dripping blood. Her eyes were closed, and she was taking deep, even breaths, obviously trying to calm herself. Zevran heard Shianni gasp when she entered the building and saw her cousin standing in the chaos like the goddess of vengeance. Slowly, Zevran crossed the room.

She looked up, her eyes full of tears. "Slavers," she said in a hoarse whisper. "There's an order form on that desk requesting specifics." Her breaths started coming more quickly. "My father has been taken by slavers."

Her daggers clattered to the floor as Zevran pulled her to him. "We will get him back, mia cara," he whispered, hoping his words were more than empty platitudes."

"Warden," Ogren called from the back of the room. "You may want to take a look at this."

Eriana and Zevran darted across the room to find a cell full of elves. Several of the cells inhabitants shouted out surprised greetings to Eriana when they recognized her. "My father, have any of you seen my father?"

"Yeah, he was taken out of here a day or two ago. They take people out those back doors into the building out back," one of the elves answered.

Eriana seemed to steady herself. "Let's go get my father back."

Alistair spent most of the day pacing up and down the front hall of Eamon's estate, waiting for Eriana and the party's return. He still wasn't used to letting her leave without him, even though she had preferred the company of Zevran and Ogren since they left Orzammar months ago. But this thing with Zevran had upset her, shaken her up more than she would ever admit, and now she was back in the ailenage, the home that she had been forced to leave, the home that had been closed to her for months. He knew her well enough to know that this trip would not be easy for her. As long as he had know her, the blond elf would tense up whenever they spoke of her past, and then, she would only share vague details. The only thing she would ever really talk about was killing Vaughan, and even then, the details were always fuzzy. Most times she would simply grow quiet, remembering who knows what about her former life. Alistair sighed. Until recently, it was the only time she allowed him to see any true weakness, the only time he had ever seen a crack in that strong shell she wore. Now she was back there and there was nothing he could do to help her. She had asked him to stay behind, asking Ogren to take his former position at his side.

When the estate doors swung open, Alistair immediately knew something was terribly wrong. Eriana's face was completely vacant, her usually stern, calculating eyes seemed empty, unseeing. Alistair stepped forward, about to speak to her, when Ogren discretely lifted a hand and shook his head. Zevran shot him a cool glance as he ushered the dazed elf through the entryway.

"What happened in there," Alistair asked as he followed Ogren into the kitchen.

"I'm afraid it wasn't pretty," Wynne answered as she followed the men into the kitchen.

"Not pretty, it was a sodding disaster in there," grumbled Ogren as he sat down and pulled out his flask. "At least in Orzammar, we just ignore the castles; not like you surfacers."

Alistair pulled a chair up beside the dwarf as Ogren began to explain what happened that day. The party tracked the slavers through a series of buildings and alleyways, leading to the docks across the city. Eriana was relentless and deadly, never sheathing her daggers as they worked their way through the city. "I swear, Alistair, if I didn't know better, I would have sworn she was possessed by a rage demon of some kind. She showed no mercy, even when those low-lives begged for it. I've never seen her so violent before," Ogren explained.

Ogren explained how they finally found the leader of the group along with several cages of elves in a warehouse by the wharfs. They were planning on smuggling them out of the city and up to the slave markets in the Tevinter Imperium. A long battle ensured with Calabrius, the blood mage leader of the slavers. "You should have seen her, Alistair; it was like watching some Dalish goddess out there. And then, the sodding mage has the nerve to offer her a bargain. He wants to take the elves in exchange for evidence proving Loghain authorized all this. When she refused, he offered to perform some blood ritual for her that would kill all the elves they had captured."

"What did she say?" Alistair asked, aghast.

"I believe it was something along the lines of, 'These are my friends, my family you sodding moron. If you think for one second that I would let you harm a single one of them, you must be out of your mind.' Then she walked up to him, drove a dagger into his chest and said, 'Enjoy the Black City you Tevienter son of a bitch!' Then she cut off his head in one fluid motion, and for good measure, she kicked it clear across the room before she dropped her daggers and collapsed to the floor in a mess of tears."

"Sweet Maker, the poor thing. But the elves survived; you got them back?"

Wynne shook her head, "Not all of them. Many were gone long before we arrived in the city."

"We did find her father, though." Ogren explained. As soon as Eriana collapsed to the floor, Zevran rushed to her side, cradling her as she cried. From the cell behind them, they heard a tentative voice cry out, "Ana?" Eriana leapt to her feet and spun around, "Ada?" An older elf was making his way to the front of the cage, tears in his eyes. Eriana gave a muffled cry and bolted to the cell door and threw herself into the arms of the elven man. They both sank to the floor, crying as Cyrion Tabris embraced the daughter who he believed was long dead, and Eriana Tabris embraced the father who she believed had been lost to her forever. They remained that way for a long time, as Wynne, Ogren, and Zevran helped the other elves out of their confinement and tended to any wounds. Once everyone was ready, the party escorted the elves back to the now plague-free alienage.

"It was sweet to see," Wynne said, "Cyrion couldn't take his eyes off Eriana, and it was like she was a child again, affixed to her father's arm, refusing to let go, even for a moment. He chided her for being too thin, and she questioned him, making sure he was taking care of himself."

Alistair was happy for her, but he was confused as well. "It sounds like everything worked out alright, so why was she so upset when you all got back?"

Wynne shook her head. "As we were leaving, we were approached by a bitter, young woman. I believe Eriana called her Elva."

The party had been on the verge of leaving when Elva approached them, a fierce anger in her eyes. "So the spoiled princess of the Alienage returns to save the day," Elva spat at her, bitterly. "Now you will be a hero and everyone will forget this was all your fault to begin with. If you had only let Vaughan have his way, none of this would have ever happened, but no, you have to play hero and now look where it's got us. Every death in this Alienage is your fault." Eriana tried to reason with her, but the bitter woman would have none of it. "The guards would have left us alone if you would have been properly punished, but no, keep everyone's favorite little elf around. Who cares about the rest of us, huh?" Then, out of nowhere, Elva produced a dagger, little more than a kitchen knife and threw herself at Eriana. Zevran moved to step between them, but Eriana's reflexes were too fast. She pulled out one of her own daggers and the angry woman dropped to the ground.

"That's when Eriana seemed to lose it," Ogren said. "She kept looking down at that woman saying, 'It's all my fault, all my fault.' We weren't quite sure how to pull her out of it, so we brought her back here."

Alistair sighed. He wanted to be near her, to help her through this. He silently prayed that Zevran was doing just that, that he wasn't making things worse.

Eriana didn't seem to hear the door close when Zevran came back into the room. She just sat, staring blankly into the fire. Zevran tried to process what she was going through. True, finding out that you father had been taken by slavers while your friends and neighbors were dying in the streets had to be traumatic, but her panic and despair started before they encountered the mages. It seemed to hit her the day before when Anora warned her about the uprisings that the guards had been forced to quell since she left, and that whole situation with Elva made it so much worse.

Shaking his head, Zevran crossed the room and knelt beside the Warden. He reached out, placing a hand on her narrow shoulder to comfort her, and she melted into his side, breaking down and babbling incoherently.

"Should have let them have me…all my fault...just had to be the hero, get revenge...should have just let them keep me," she sobbed into his chest.

Zevran wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry. Never before had she seemed so vulnerable, so breakable, so young. She was only 18, but she had always carried herself with such maturity and wisdom that it was easy to forget how young she truly was. But now, in his arms, she seemed like a child who needed his protection. Slowly, he picked her up and placed her on the bed, her head was resting on his chest as she continued to cry, clinging to his tunic like it was a life line. Her breathing started to slow as she, in sheer exhaustion, drifted into a fitful sleep.

Zevran, however, was nowhere near falling asleep. His mind was racing with questions and doubts. Only once had he ever come close to feeling this way about someone, and that turned into a disaster. Everything that he had ever learned screamed against this. No, he cannot love her; he cannot allow himself that kind of vulnerability. All love and affection had been beaten out of him early on, yet, no matter how much his conditioning made him want to run, he was inexplicitly drawn to the sleeping woman in his arms. She was so like him in many ways. Stealthy, deadly, and hardened through a lifetime of struggle, but while he had learned to close others out, she remained open and vulnerable.

"No, not open," he thought bitterly to himself. She had hidden her past, even from him. She was married! Not that it would have stopped his advances, but why hadn't she told him. She had told him so much, even about the embarrassing abuse she had endured for so long. Why would she keep this to herself. Again the doubts began to plague him. Perhaps she was planning to return to him, to leave Zevran and make for herself a normal life, the life she deserved and he could never give her. He was just a fling, a way to occupy her time until she returned to the one she truly loved. It was almost too much for him to bear.

Jealousy washed over him, and again he found himself resenting this unknown elf waiting for his Warden to return. His true feelings were suddenly very clear to him. If he didn't love her, why else would he feel this way? In his confusion, he had pushed her away, but now, everything was becoming very clear.

Suddenly, Eriana's little body gave a quick jerk and her head shot up, her big blue eyes wide with panic. "Shhh, my Warden, you are safe," Zevran whispered as he tightened his arms around her.

"Oh, Zev," she said, breathlessly, allowing herself to relax in his arms. "Thank the Maker you're here. I dreamt they had taken you too," she said as she buried her head into his chest.

"No, my dear, I am still here," he whispered reassuringly as he rolled her over onto her back. Looking down at her, he gently kissed her forehead. "Returning home was quite troubling, no? Many things had changed."

"I could have prevented so much of this," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I brought so much trouble on my people."

"How could this be your fault?" asked Zevran, brushing a wayward hair off her forehead. "You told me that you would have been killed if you had stayed, no?" She sighed, almost afraid to meet Zevran's eyes. "I never told you the whole story about why I left, have I? I mean, I told you about killing Vaughan, but you've never heard the whole story." Zevran shook his head.

"My last day in the Alienage was my wedding day. My father arranged a marriage for me with a man from Highever. I only met Nelaros, my betrothed, the morning of the wedding, and I realized how hard my father had worked to give me a good life. He was strong, handsome, and so kind. When I finally met him, my nerves about the wedding vanished. I realized that he would be able to provide for me and protect me. After my mother died, I had to take on so much responsibility; I thought that he would be able to take the pressure off me, that finally, someone would take care of me. It wouldn't be an easy life, but it would have been secure."

"So what happened?"

Eriana sighed, "Vaughan decided to crash our wedding. Shianni had angered him, and he wanted to teach us knife ears a lesson. He was going to take us back to his estate and…" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. "I was about to step up and suggest that he take me; none of the other women had ever been taken. I wanted to spare them from what I've been through. Nelaros pulled me back and tried to put himself between me and the human men. Vaughan laughed and made some joke about the futility of trying to protect me before he knocked both of us out."

Zevran listened as she explained how the guards killed one of her friends before Soris showed up to rescue them then how she and her cousin fought their way through the estate after the other women. Then she clammed up for a moment.

"We rounded a corner and there was Nelaros, surrounded by four or five guards. Soris and I rushed to his side, but he fell before we reached him. We weren't fast enough…I wasn't fast enough." Eriana sobbed and Zevran held her tightly. "I cradled his head, trying desperately to stop his bleeding. His breathing was ragged, and he looked up at me, brining his hand to my face. I clutched his hand as he whispered, 'I'm so sorry.' Then he was gone."

"At that moment, my future died with him. The life that I had dreamed of was gone. With his blood still wet on my hands, I went after Vaughan. When he saw me, my wedding dress drenched with the blood of his guards, he begged me to spare him. He offered me money and freedom to spare his life, but I would have none of it. I killed him, not because of his cruelty, but I wanted vengeance. He had taken my future, so I would take his. I knew the guards would kill me and probably Soris if I did. I knew the ramifications for the alienage, but I didn't care. I put my own anger and hate before what was best for my people. My need for revenge brought them so much pain." She buried her head in Zevran's tunic, tears starting anew.

"All this to avenge a man? You must have truly loved him, no?"

Eriana looked up at him and shook her head. "No, I didn't love him. I loved the idea of him, of a life where I was protected wholly and completely. I mean he risked his life for me, and he had only just met me. I wanted a life where it didn't fall on me to make the decisions." She laughed a bit through her tears. "That worked out great, huh? I'm just the Warden Commander of Fereldan with a blight to stop, a king to crown, and a tyrant to oust. No pressure, huh?"

"Not to mention a dwarf to keep sober, other than that, not a bit of responsibility."

Eriana smiled and nuzzled into his chest. "I actually thought being a warden would take some pressure off me. Why would a young elven woman ever be called on to lead? I mean Duncan and Alistair, even the other Wardens, seemed protective of me. It was nice. I mean, my cousins always tried to protect me, but I always felt so helpless."

"I don't really like to talk about what happened with Nealros because I don't like to linger on what happened. If I had been forceful, none of this would have happened." She sighed. "I guess it made me realize that the Maker intends for me to be my own protector. If that moment taught me anything, it taught me that I couldn't look for others to lead, it only ends up hurting them. I can't look for others to step in and rescue me either. I have to do this alone."

Zevran pulled her close and lightly stroked her back, taking a moment to absorb everything she had said. "Zev, I know you've been working through your feelings. Take all the time you need. I just wanted to thank you for being here with me today. This would have been so much harder without you beside me. Seeing the alienage today just stirred up a lot of feelings I thought I'd already dealt with."

"Of course, My Warden. I am yours, whatever you need," he whispered as he lightly kissed her forehead.

Zevran continued to hold her as she drifted back to sleep. This little woman-child, so strong yet so frail. If he ever truly had any doubts, they were gone now. She needed him to protect her, to stand up and defend her as she had defended him on countless occasions. He hadn't even paused to kill his former best friend for her, why doubt it now? She needed a defender, and he would be that defender. He would stand up to those who would try to harm her. He would be her rock in a world or turmoil. He would go with her to the end.

He loved her, wholly and completely, without a doubt, he loved her.

"I will go forever with you, My Warden," Zevran whispered to the sleeping elf. "Even to the gates of the Black City itself."

With that Zevran drifted into a peaceful sleep, holding the woman he loved in his arms.

Well, we're coming up to the end of the Origins story line, and I was planning on continuing through Awakenings. I'm just not sure if I should do it in a second story, or if I shoud just continue this one. What do you all think? Again, reviews are loved and appreciated!