Overtaken by the festive spirit, I wanted to try some more unusual POVs, rather than just Leliana's and our noble (and occasionally hapless) Wardens' - hence the next couple of chapters here.
I said there would be more Zevran... (Please don't hate me for tormenting him.)
From very light to very dark - another attempt at Zevran's POV, and the tragedy of the whole Zevran/Rinna story.
A Memory
Zevran
He should have learned.
He grew up in the presence of whores who laughed and "loved" for money, and then there were the Crows, calm, cold-eyed killers.
He was not supposed, not allowed, to feel.
Of course, he did not learn, did he? She came into his life, with her laughing eyes and her sweet voice, and he let her in, like a fool. Let them in, gave them a weak spot, a chink in his beautifully-polished, shining armour.
The price was paid in betrayal and blood, eventually, those laughing eyes - now pleading with him - losing their spark. She was so cold, afterwards, an empty shell. He had watched someone die and cared, and perhaps that horrified him more than the death itself.
If he had simply paid attention to what was taught to him, hadn't cast it aside in a moment of foolish abandon...
If he had learned, she would not haunt his dreams.