Eriana had once tried to explain to Zevran the difference between joy and pleasure. Zevran remembered the conversation well; they had been sitting on a cold mountain top in Haven, waiting for dark to fall so that they could sneak past a dragon and talking about Zevran's past. It was one of the first times he had opened up to her about his past and his feelings. She had tried to explain to him the difference between joy and pleasure, saying that pleasure was something temporary, found in a moment of bliss. Joy, on the other hand, was something that lasted, a feeling that made you content and whole inside. At the time, Zevran didn't quite understand the distinction; he just thought she was being idealistic as she often was. However, after spending an evening with her and her family, the distinction became very clear to him. This was joy, and this was far better than any moment of temporary pleasure could ever be.

Zevran had never really experienced the whole family thing before. Being raised communally by a group of whores never afforded him the opportunity to see what a real family looked like, so it was interesting to watch the four elves as they interacted with each other. The love between them was so easy, so effortless that it was like breathing for them. One moment, Soris and Eriana would be bickering about her cooking or insulting each other, and in the next moment, they would be laughing and embracing. He watched as Shianni and Eriana put the final touches on dinner, enjoying the sound of their laughter, especially Eriana's light-hearted giggling. But the moments between Eriana and her father were Zevran's favorites. Cyrion would just gaze at her when he thought no one was watching, his eyes full of pride and love for his youngest child. Inevitability, Eriana would catch his gaze and laugh, dashing across the room to plant a kiss on her father's cheek or to sit beside him while he talked to her.

The love in the Tabris household was palpable to every member of their party, but it wasn't like a blanket that warmed only those it covered. Their love was like a fire, warming everyone in the room. Everyone softened in the presence of the Tabris family, even their battle-hardened qunari. Sten was almost smiling as he sampled the various cookies and sweets offered up by Shianni, and he called her a true artist in the kitchen. Alistair laughed and told stories about their travels, bragging about Eriana's skills as a fighter. And Ogren even managed to stay sober for most of the evening, until he and Soris got into a drinking contest. Of course, that was after Soris made a fool of himself while flirting with Leliana who had allowed Shianni to braid her hair in an elaborate style. Even Morrigan seemed to be enjoying herself in almost a begrudging way. Wynne and Cyrion sat together, laughing at the young people as they enjoyed themselves.

The high point of the evening, however, came when Alistair was telling Cyrion about the time Eriana took out an ogre single-handedly during the Battle of Ostagar. Soris, who was about half way through the drinking contest with Ogren, spoke up, "Took out an ogre by herself? I don't believe it. She's an archer, not a swordsman…swordswoman."

"No, she did it, I swear. She scaled up the dang thing's back and plunged her sword into its neck. A good thing too because that thing was about to crush me."

Eriana smiled, "Well, I couldn't let it kill my only friend in the Wardens, now could I? It would have been quite a failure if one of us didn't make it back from that Maker-forsaken tower."

"Bah," Soris said, "I always beat her when we sparred. In fact, I bet I could still beat her."

Zevran glanced over at her, his eyebrow raised. "Are you going to take that from him, mia cara?"

"No, but I refuse to spar you, Soris. You're half drunk, and I wouldn't want you to use that as an excuse when I kick your ass."

Soris snorted, "Sounds like you're afraid, cousin."

Eriana rolled her eyes and laughed, "Not hardly. Think about it Soris; I know you're still sober enough to do that. You've been in prison for a year while I've been out fighting all nature of unholy beasts. I think my skills have improved since then."

"Prove it, then. I've still got our sparring daggers."

Eriana glanced over at Zevran, who shrugged his shoulders. "I have a better idea," she said, motioning for Zevran to get up. "I think a demonstration is in order. It might relax Ada a bit and would definitely shut you up."

There was a mixture of moans and nods of approval from the group. "Well, now you've done it, elfling," Ogren said as he got up to move the table out of the way. "It's not bad enough that I've had to watch their training as we marched all over Fereldan, but now it's gone and interrupted my drinking."

Zevran joined Eriana in the middle of the room, carefully testing the weight of the wooden daggers. They were much lighter than the weapons they were used to using, but he was good at improvising. "So, are you ready for me to embarrass you in front of your family."

"Not a chance, Antivan. You are mine," she joked as she began to circle around him. They both assumed a defensive stance and grinned at each other. Zevran blew her a quick kiss before he launched himself across the room, daggers moving toward her. Deftly, she danced out of the way, bringing her daggers behind her to block his blow before spinning toward him, trying to land a hit as he moved past her. Zevran could almost hear the jaws of her family as they hit the floor as the two elves circled each other. Eriana was grinning at him as they moved, almost dancing. They had done this so many times before that it was almost second nature, each one waiting for the other to make a small mistake. It was Eriana whose misstep ended the duel, and the moment Zevran saw it and took advantage of it, pinning Eriana to the ground in a second. After giving her a quick peck on the forehead, Zevran pulled her to her feet.

"Um, yeah, so, you probably would have beaten me," Soris said.

"Well, a year of fighting darkspawn will do that for you. We are, after all ridiculously awesome by now," Eriana said with a smile. "And you forgot that I'm seeing an assassin; don't you think he taught me a thing or two?"

"Eriana," Alistair piped up, "None of us want to know what Zevran has taught you, believe me." Everyone began laughing as Zevran pulled her into a hug.

Most of the evening passed the same way, with laughter, stories, and love, and Zevran was sad to see it end. It seemed that, for that evening at least, everyone in that small house was a part of the Tabris family, and Zevran understood a bit more clearly what it was to love someone in a deeper, more meaningful way. As they were leaving, each of the Tabris elves said goodbye to him in a different way. Soris, through his drunken slurring, told Zevran to take care of Eriana then threatened to kill him if he ever hurt her. "I don't care if you are an assassin; you hurt her and I'll get you." Then he slapped him on the back and promptly passed out on the couch. Shianni kissed him lightly on the cheek and thanked him for taking care of her cousin. "I've never seen her happier, Zevran. Thank the Maker you've been there for her." Cyrion's goodbye was the most poignant. He pulled him close and embraced him as if Zevran was his own son. "Take care of her for me, young man. I don't think I could bear to lose her again. I hope you realize what a rare and wonderful thing my daughter is, and you cherish her as such."

Zevran glanced over at Eriana, who was standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes. "I swear to you, Mr. Tabris, if by my life or my death, I can protect your daughter; I will. This I have sworn to her, and I will swear it to you as well."

"Then go with the Maker, son," Cyrion said as he embraced both Zevran and Eriana, "and I hope to see you again, both of you, very soon."

The group made it back to Eamon's estate just before nightfall, everyone feeling relaxed and calm about the next day's Landsmeet. Well, they were until they walked in the front door to find Eamon waiting for them, a sour look on his face. Zevran leaned over to Eriana, "Uh-oh, it looks like someone's in trouble," he whispered into her ear.

"Alistair, Warden, there have been some… well, some possible developments that we need to discuss."

Eriana sighed. "Don't worry, my Warden; I'll have a nice, warm bath waiting for you once you are finished," Zevran said as he gave her a kiss on the temple. She nodded and disappeared with the two humans. Sighing a bit to himself, Zevran made his way up to her room, ordering up a bath on the way. Whatever spell her family cast on them, Eamon's dour face and ominous presence effectively broke it.

She was quiet once she entered, quickly shedding the lightweight leathers she had been wearing and slipping into the bath. Zevran joined her, sliding in behind her and washing her hair as she stared at the wall in front of them.

"Hum," Zevran finally broke the silence, "Since you obviously are not going to tell me what is on your mind, I guess I will just have to guess. Eamon has decided that Alistair is not in fact fit to rule, and has decided, instead, that you and I should take the throne. An interesting idea, I assure you. Fereldan would do well with a pair of elven monarchs." Eriana laughed weakly and shook her head. "No? Perhaps he has just found out that Anora is actually another bastard child of the late king, making any union between the two impossible and quite naughty." Eriana laughed again leaning back against his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

"No, Eamon just informed us that even if we win the support of the Landsmeet, Loghain may not willingly accept the outcome. Apparently, Loghain has been discussing an old practice of dueling as a way of settling differences. It looks like he plans to challenge us, and the outcome of that will overrule the vote of the nobles. According to tradition, I will be allowed to choose a champion if I desire, or Alistair or I could simply do it." She sighed, leaning her head against his chest.

"Would you like for me to do this? I could easily take Loghain, you know."

Eriana laughed, "Now, wouldn't that be pure irony. He hires you to kill me, and you end up fighting as my champion against him. That sounds like something out of one of Leliana's silly novels." She drew up her knees and leaned against them, "No, I think most people would see that as an insult, asking a foreigner to fight as the champion for the future King of Fereldan. I'm afraid it would set a bad precedent that Alistair needs foreign help to hold his power."

"So that negates me, Sten, and Leiana."

"I also think asking one of the mages to do it would be insulting to the Chantry, considering the whole magic is used to serve man never to rule over him thing. I think they'd see using a mage as some sort of political statement, especially if we use the apostate."

"That leaves you, Alistair, and Ogren."

"No, that leaves me. There is no way I'm letting Alistair do this, and Ogren isn't much of a duelist; he's more of a charge in blindly swinging at stuff till its dead. He's supposed to be alive at the end of the duel…so we can behead him then."

"Are you actually considering this? Going up against a man three times your age who has half a century of fighting under his belt is crazy. Not only that, but he'll be heavily armored, and I have a feeling he won't hold back to behead you later."

"What choice do I have, Zevran? It's either me or Alistair; we're the only true Fereldans in the group. And I don't trust anyone else enough to ask them to do it for us. Alistair could probably take him, but it's too much of a risk. Plus, he's too emotionally attached to the situation; he may not be able to think clearly."

"And you're not? After all, the man did allow the slavers into the alienage who imprisoned your family and friends."

"I know, but I have better control of my emotions than Alistair. I always have."

Zevran turned her around to look her in the eyes. "Do you honestly think you can defeat him?"

Eriana shrugged, "I beat Sten, didn't I? And that was months ago; I've gotten much better since then."

Zevran pulled her close to his chest. "And if I say no?"

Eriana's head shot up, "If you say no? And on what premise would you have a say in this?"

"Um, on the premise that you are my fiancé, and I have a definite vested interest in your long-term survival."

Eriana raised an eyebrow, "Your fiancé?"

Zevran thumbed the diamond in her ear, "Did you already forget what this means? You did realize what I was asking you this afternoon, right?"

"Yeah, it's just…you didn't quiet put it that way. Hearing you say it; well, it's just surreal, kinda." She grinned, "But I like it. I guess I just assumed…well, I'm not sure what I assumed. I figured we'd put a title on whatever this is later." She sighed, "Regardless, though, I'm still your boss, and in this matter, what I say goes. If it comes down to it, I'll be the one to face Loghain tomorrow."

"Well, if you insist on this course of action, then you need to get some sleep," Zevran said, drawing her out of the tub and into one of the big towels that was warming by the fire. He looked down at her as he dried her off. "Just promise me that you will be careful. This isn't some mindless hurlock you will be going up against. This is a battle-worn warrior, a nation-wide hero. One does not garner such praise without many decisive victories."

"I will, Zevran, especially since I have something worth coming back to," she said with a smile as she snuggled up in his arm.

Zevran managed to convince her to try to get some sleep, but after getting into bed, he found it very difficult to sleep. He kept remembering the fight between her and Sten in Haven, recalling the quickness with which she moved even then, trying to imagine the fight now that she had been properly trained. After a fitful couple of hours, he gave up trying to sleep and slipped out of the bed as she slept beside him. He didn't want to risk waking her up by leaving the room, so he made his way over to the fire place and picked up the book she had been reading. It was a history of the first four blights as recorded by the Grey Wardens. Curiously, he began thumbing through it, stopping on pages that she had dog-eared and reading the passages that she had marked. There were several passages in particular that caught his attention, passages that detailed the destruction of the archdemon.

"You read too much of that, and I may be forced to conscript you. You know that right?" Eriana said as she walked up behind him. Zevran looked up at her, his eyes full of concern. "Zev? What's wrong?"

Zevran handed her the book, "Do you mean to tell me that you've not noticed a surprising and disturbing coincidence detailing how the last four blights were ended?"

"You mean the fact that the four Wardens who managed to kill the archdemon died in the attempt? Yeah, I noticed that," she said sitting down beside him.

"Coincidence?"

She sighed, "I sure do hope so, but when have things ever been so easy? I'd like to think that battling a dragon was so difficult that the task in and of itself killed them, but my gut tells me otherwise."

Zevran pulled her down on his lap. "What does your gut tell you in this case?"

"That this is one of those fun Warden secrets that they don't tell you when they first recruit you. And most of the Warden secrets I've learned have been 'look, here's a new fun and painful way to die; enjoy.'"

"This isn't funny."

"I know, but what can I do about it. I'm a Warden; one of three in all of Fereldan. I meant to talk to Riordan about it, but Eamon caught us and it sort of slipped my mind. There's just so much going on with the Landsmeet and everything that I just forgot."

Zevran moved beside her and wrapped his arms around her slim shoulders. "Are you sure it isn't too late to escape with the Dalish?" Zevran asked as he gently caressed her back.

She smiled up at him. "I think someone may notice it if we tried to leave."

"Just promise me that you will be careful, amora," Zevran whispered, pulling her close, unable to imagine how his life would be should the worse happen, how it would feel to lose her now that he had opened up to her. He wasn't sure how he would be able to put his life back together if he ever lost her. For a moment, he second guessed the wisdom of opening himself up to the possibility of this kind of loss with when their lives were always in such danger, but that moment passed the moment he looked down at her. Whatever the future brought them, she was worth it, and he hoped that he had a lot of time to appreciate it.

Okay, sorry for the delay. I've been coaching as well as teaching the past two months, and the season ends Saturday (whoo-hoo). I'm not sure if I'll be able to upload this next week, so bear with me! I think we'll have about 3 or 4 more updates before I draw this story to a close. This has been so much fun to write, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading too. Reviews are always welcomed.