Eriana awoke the next morning with the sudden realization that she was not alone in her bed. Not only was there someone with her, but she was also laying on that someone's chest and his arms were definitely around her. Her initial urge was to scramble away as quickly as possible, but all her defensive instincts were quickly silenced by the warm sense of security she felt and maybe lingering effects of the booze. Yeah, the booze definitely made her less concerned about her safety. It was kind of nice, though, after all these weeks of waking up to a cold, empty bed, to wake up next to a warm body again, especially someone who had a warm, familiar smell. Leather, she was definitely smelling leather, but not Zevran's leather which smelled of warm spices and honey. No, this leather had a more earthy smell, like the forest just before it began to rain – pleasant, comforting, but distinctly different.

Zevran – the memories of the pervious day and night came rushing suddenly back. The Dark Wolf, the nightmare, the feelings of total rejection, they all came crashing into her like a tidal wave, and suddenly, all the warm, leather smell in the world couldn't make her feel any better. She sat up abruptly, regretting it instantly as her head began to pound with the lingering effects of last night's whiskey. Cradling her throbbing head in her hands, she muttered curses at the empty bottle on her night stand. It seemed her sudden movement had woken up her companion as well because whoever he was was handing her a glass of water, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. She downed it eagerly before giving it back to him and turning to see who it was that had spent the night with her in her bed.

"Nathaniel," she groaned, returning her head to her hands.

"Morning, Ana." He said, softly and compassionately. "Yeah, the morning after a night like that isn't always the most fun thing in the world, is it," he said softly, getting up to pour her another glass of water. "Here," he said, holding it out to her.

"Thanks," Eriana muttered, taking the glass in both hands and looking down at it. "Um, last night…it's all a bit fuzzy to me right now."

"Well, an entire bottle of whiskey tends to do that to you," he chuckled.

"Right…well, about that; we didn't…well, you know." She glanced up at him, nervously biting her bottom lip.

Nathaniel laughed, "No, no, no, nothing happened. Don't worry, My Lady, you're virtue is safe with me."

Eriana snorted, "My virtue, yeah right; believe me, Nate, that was never really in danger." She looked back down at the water in her hands. "So what did happen last night, anyway?"

"You had a nightmare. I heard you screaming all the way in the other room." Eriana cringed; she definitely remembered the nightmare. "You were really shaken up, and you didn't think you would be able to go back to sleep by yourself so I stayed."

"So, the nightmare, I didn't happen to say anything about it, did I? I mean, I didn't tell you about it, right?" Nathaniel grinned and nodded. "Uggh," Eriana groaned as she fell back on the bed and covered her face with her arms.

"What?" Nathaniel asked, looking down at her.

"Nothing, I'll just never be able to make eye contact with you around Anders again; that's all. And that should make fighting darkspawn together perfectly easy." She groaned as she rolled over. "Brilliant," she thought to herself, "now I just have to make an absolute arse of myself in front of Velanna, and I will have successfully lost the respect of every one of my Wardens."

Eriana flinched when Nathaniel put his hand on her on the back, "I'll never speak of it again if you won't." She glanced over her shoulder and up at him. "I blame it on the whiskey, really; you were at the mercy of the alcohol. Besides, I wouldn't dare risk bringing that up during a fight. You might get so distracted by all that blonde hair and that earring that you would find yourself completely unable to fight, and then where would we be?"

Eriana rolled her eyes, "No danger of that, trust me; it wasn't exactly a pleasant dream. He did turn into the Architect in the end after all. Kinda the last thing I need to be thinking about – ever."

"Now, see, you feel better already." Eriana wasn't quite sure about that; her head still felt like her brain was still trying to escape through her eye sockets. "Now, you get cleaned up, and I'll go get you some breakfast."

The mere thought of food made her stomach lurch. Warily, she looked up at him. "I don't think I could eat anything right now."

Nathaniel just laughed, "Trust me, your stomach will hate me, but the rest of you will thank me. I'll get you something bland, don't worry," he said as he headed for the door. He paused just before he walked out, "Eriana, I know that you're carrying a lot of pressure, and I know that you want to prove that you're strong enough to handle it by yourself." Eriana glanced up at him as he spoke. "I just wanted you to know that you don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you, and I won't think any less of you if need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to. No one should go through this alone, no matter how strong you are. Needing help doesn't make you weak." He smiled at her. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

Eriana nodded, "Thank you, Nathaniel. I…I appreciate it." Nathaniel nodded and left.

Once he was gone, Eriana flopped back down on the bed, curling up into a ball and holding her knees to her chest. Nathaniel's offer was sweet, but there were some things that he simply couldn't help with, like with this deep gnawing pain in her chest, this feeling of absolute rejection and abandonment, this feeling of betrayal. She felt herself spiraling out of control, but couldn't, for the life of her, quiet figure out how to make things right again. This was worse, far worse than the day he left, worse than waking up to that first empty bed because for a moment she had allowed herself to hope, and then it was all completely destroyed. Now she was left with the shattered remnants of another broken dream, and she wasn't sure that she had the strength to even try to start piecing herself back together again. The pain was just too much for her to bear. She sighed, "Yes, Nathaniel, you can shoulder some of my burden, but this pain is mine and mine alone, and I would give anything just to make it stop."

-0-

Oghren was so ready to be back in Amaranthine with Nathaniel and Eriana because if he had to spend another moment alone with Anders, he would probably take out the mage at the knees. In most circumstances, he really liked the mage. He was a fun guy to talk to and a hoot when he was drunk, but after four hours of hearing nothing but "Eriana this" and "Eriana that" and "Have you noticed how happy Eriana has been lately," Oghren was seriously about to snap. Ever since they left Eriana back in Amaranthine, Anders had been insinuating that he was the one responsible for the recent upturn in Eriana's mood, and it was obvious that he wanted Oghren to ask about it. But Oghren stubbornly refused to take the bait. Not that he cared, really, whether or not she was bonking the mage; he was on board with whatever made Eriana happy. He was just pretty sure that the human was mistaken in his assumption, and there was no way in Thedas that he would be able to keep from rubbing it in once the mage realized the truth if he participated in this particular conversation. So he just nodded in agreement and played it dumb for the duration of the walk from the Keep to the city, and it was really starting to grade on him.

Oghren hazarded a glance up at the mage. If there was a man among them who fit her type, it would definitely be Anders. He had a quality about him that was very Zevran-like in a lot of ways, from his long blonde hair to his confident swagger to the element of danger surrounding him. He definitely fit her tastes; that wasn't really the issue. He just knew Eriana, and she wasn't the type of woman who would throw herself into the arms of any man. After all, it had taken Zevran more than two months of focused effort to win her affections, so there was no way that Anders had won her over so quickly and easily, not when she was still reeling from Zevran's departure. No, there was something more going on, something that the mage definitely wasn't going to like.

So, after what seemed like forever, Oghren and Anders finally made it to the tavern where Nathaniel and Eriana had spent the evening. He instantly spotted Nathaniel, casually leaning against the bar, talking to the barkeep, but Eriana was a bit harder to find. As they approached Nathaniel, the rogue glanced up at them and nodded toward a booth where Eriana was sitting. Oghren knew instantly that her better mood was a thing of the past. She was slumped over in a booth, her buried in her arms. "Oi, Kido, what's going on," Oghren said as he made his way over to her.

She groaned but didn't lift her head. "Not so loud, Oghren, geez, does all of Amaranthine need to hear you."

Oghren chuckled, "Now, Ana, I've told you a million times, you don't need to be drinkin without my supervision. You just don't have the liver for it and ya hate yourself the next mornin."

Eriana glanced up at him, "Look, I'm not in the mood for you lectures, okay; it's been a long night." She glanced up at the mage and gestured toward her head, "Anders, can you do something about this?" The mage chuckled and shot a quick spell her way. Oghren watched as Eriana sighed and rubbed her temples before getting up and collecting her things. "Come on, boys, let's go kill some smuggles."

Thankfully, the smugglers' hideout posed very few problems for the experienced Grey Wardens. The criminals were completely taken by surprise and were totally unprepared to defend themselves properly. It wasn't even a real challenge; not that Oghren minded, exactly. In fact, it finally gave him a chance to really watch Eriana fight. Over the past few weeks, she had allowed Nathaniel to take over her old position as the primary archer of the group and started to rely heavily on her daggers, working in close combat alongside Oghren and filling the role Zevran played during the Blight. When he asked her about it, she merely pointed out that Nathaniel was a more skilled with archery while she, by virtue of her months of training and sparring with the assassin, had the edge on hand-to-hand combat. Today, though, things were different. As they moved through the dark, underground tunnels, Eriana reminded the dwarf more of himself than of the Antivan. She charged blindly into battle, engaging the fiercest and most aggressive of the targets head-on rather than moving through the shadows to face them indirectly as he had seen Zevran do. It confused him, really. He had watched the girl disappear right in front of him in broad day light, but here, where she actually had the benefit of shadows and dark corridors, she made no effort to conceal herself. Luckily, these enemies were inept enough that she was able to easily dispatch them, but Ohgren started to worry what would happen when they came up against a true threat.

After the last enemy fell, Eriana turned to look at them, casually pulling off her helm and pushing her hair back off her face. "So, let's see what exactly these guys were hiding," she muttered as she began to riffle through the crates that were lying on the deck, just in front of them. She pulled a dagger from the box and began to examine it closely. Oghren was about to walk up beside her when she let out a guttural roar and began to let loose a stream of expletives. "You sodding, nug humping, knife-eared, scum eating, son of a bronto." She screamed again and threw the dagger across the room, sinking it deep into a wooden post before storming off down the dock, kicking over crates and weapon racks as she went. Upon reaching the end of the dock, she screamed again and plopped down, holding her hand in her heads. Anders took a step toward her, but Nathaniel and Oghren both grabbed him, holding the mage back.

"What was that all about," Anders asked, dumbfounded by Eriana's sudden outburst.

Nathaniel moved over to the knife, pulling it from the post and examining it closely. He handed it to Oghren, pointing at the markings on the side. "It's a Crow dagger."

"Well, that explains the hissy fit." Oghren turned and looked up at the rogue his hands on his hips, "But what I'd like to know, Howe, is what exactly did you do to her? When I left her with you yesterday, she was happy as a cat, and now…well, look," he said, angrily, pointing down the dock. "So what happened to her because it's obvious that she is not okay."

Nathaniel sighed and looked toward their distraught leader. "Look, I'm not sure exactly how much of this she wanted you to know just now, but I guess there's no point in trying to keep it a secret. You have a right to know." Nathaniel sat down and motioned for the other Wardens to join him. "A few weeks ago, I uncovered a plot that has been brewing amongst some of the nobles here since she took over the Arling, a conspiracy to kill the Commander." Anders gave a shocked yelp, while Oghren just kind of grunted.

"And how long have you known about this?"

"Since the Fealty Ceremony."

Oghren growled, "And you're just telling me about it now? Damnit, Howe, you should have told me from the start."

"Look, it was her decision to keep it under wraps; she didn't want to concern you until we knew something a bit more definitive. A few days ago, we were given confirmation that this was a true threat; it seems one of the nobles contacted Varel while we were dealing with the Architect to warn him about it. Varel was also contacted by an information broker who was willing to help us ferret out the ones involved, an informant calling himself the Dark Wolf."

"Bloody hell," Oghern muttered, shaking his head. "Did ya meet with him?"

Nathaniel nodded, "Yesterday."

"And she assumed…"

"Yep."

"But it wasn't…"

"Nope."

"So that's why…"

"Exactly."

Oghren grunted, "Now it all makes perfect sense."

"Well, I'm glad you understand what's going on because I have absolutely no clue what you two are talking about," Anders huffed, throwing his arms up in the air. "Talking in complete sentences would be helpful, thank you."

"It's like this, Sparklefingers; The Dark Wolf was an alias that Eriana and Zevran used during the Blight when they were doing some less than savory things. Apparently, this information broker has been using the name, but Eriana didn't know that when she set up the meeting. Naturally, she assumed…"

"That Zevran had returned," Anders finished, his face falling as he suddenly understood exactly what had been going on the past few days.

"So, what happened when she realized it wasn't him?"

Nathaniel shrugged, "You saw her this morning; I'm pretty sure she self medicated with some Orlesian whiskey."

Oghren shook his head and looked down to where his young friend was sitting, staring off into the underground harbor. This was the last thing she needed right now, to have her hopes built up, only to have them dashed once again. He knew she was barely hanging on as it was, but after a blow like this…He remembered when something similar had happened to him. About three months after Branka had disappeared into the deeproads, a Legion of the Dead scouting party sent word back to Orzammar, that she and her party were spotted heading back toward the city. Naturally, Oghren was thrilled with the prospect of her return, but when months passed with no further word, he had fallen into a deeper despair. It had been the catalyst that pushed him over the edge. After that, he began drinking heavily and lashing out at people in the streets; he had become a disgrace. He knew the damage that something like this could do, and he hoped that his young friend was stronger than he was.

-0-

The deep roads, Eriana really hated the deep roads, but once again, her duty as a Grey Warden drew her down there before her time, before her calling. They had spent the last two days fighting through the deep roads before finding the abandoned fortress of Kal' Hirol where the darkspawn had been breeding an army. They had picked up a new member of the party, too, a member of the Legion of the Dead named Sigrun whose entire company had been demolished by the massive darkspawn forces that were amassed there. She had proven to be an invaluable guide through the deep roads, saving them from stumbling around helplessly in the maze of underground tunnels, a fact that Eriana greatly appreciated. She didn't want to spend any more time down there than necessary.

This was only her second time in the deep roads, and all things, considered, this time wasn't half as bad as the last. After all, there was no archdemon flying around, calling to her in her sleep; also, she had been a Warden for over a year and a half, so she had learned to block out most of the sensation from the darkspawn when she was awake, though they still called to her in her sleep. But somehow, this time felt far worse to the young elf. This time she didn't have him, and it was in times like this that she missed his presence desperately. He had always been able to distract her, to give her a moment's release from the pressures and troubles that plagued her. Now, now that he was gone and she was alone, she had only her blades to distract her. Thrust, slice, parry, dodge, kick, spin, stab: it was a rhythmic dance of death and destruction, and Eriana welcomed it, whole heartedly throwing herself into the thick of the melee. It was her new solace amid the maelstrom troubles.

Oghren beside her was dancing a similar dance, only his was full of rage and blood lust. Hers was only full of the desire to kill. No, not to kill, not even really to destroy. To forget, to dull the pain, even for just a moment. Thrust, slice, parry, dodge, kick, spin, stab: it was a mantra, as natural as breathing in and out. When she was one with the blades, all the noise from the rest of her life seemed to fade into the background.

She felt a healing spell was over, then noticed the soft glow of a lifeward surrounding her. But she continued her dance, moving, weaving, slashing until there were no partners left standing. Only then did Eriana realize how profusely she was bleeding; the world around her started to grow fuzzy as a wave of overwhelming pain washed over her. Swift as always, Nathaniel as at her side, catching her before she hit the ground. The last thing she remembered was resting her head against his chest as he cradled her in his arms and carried her away from the gruesome scene.

When she came to, Nathaniel and Anders were both kneeling over her, carefully checking her injuries as Oghren paced a rut in the floor by her head. Nathaniel breathed a sigh of relief and helped her sit up, holding a health potion to her lips. "You've lost a lot of blood, Eriana. I think we need to set up camp here for a while. Do you sense any darkspawn lurking around nearby?" Eriana shook her head. "Okay, well I think we should be fine here for the night."

"Good idea," Eriana said, getting to her feet, despite Anders' feeble protests. "I'll take first watch, and you guys get some sleep. Especially you, Anders; you need to give your mana a chance to recharge." The mage nodded and moved wearily over to his bed roll.

Eriana had to admit, she felt a bit guilty when she watched Anders throw himself down on his bedroll and fall asleep before he could even pull a blanket over himself. The poor mage had obviously used his last reserves of strength in his efforts to keep her alive. Cursing her stupidity, she knelt beside him and gently pulled a blanket up over his shoulders. He gave a contented sight as he pulled the blanket around himself, but he didn't wake up. Eriana stroked his hair gently before she got up to move to the edges of their make-shift camp.

Sitting there, alone in the oppressive darkness of the deep roads, Eriana had to focus to keep her thoughts away from Zevran. She tried to force herself to think of battle tactics, recruitment strategies, and political schemes, but despite her best efforts, her mind always seemed to return to him. His harsh words from her dream echoed through her ears, "I never loved you," "You are no longer worthy of me." True, he had never said those words, but the memory of them coming from his perfect lips, even in a dream, stung her as deeply as if he had actually said them because on some level, she believed them to be the truth. She felt her hold begin to slip as the pain and despair began to overwhelm her…

Just then, Oghren plopped down heavily beside her, staring silently into the darkness. Eriana glanced down at the dwarf, waiting for him to break the silence, but the warrior just sat there, staring blankly ahead, as if he was mulling over something.

"Okay, fine, Oghren, I give," she said after several minutes of a prolonged silence. "What do you want?"

"Nothin," the dwarf said, tossing a rock out into the dark abyss. "I was just trying to decide what I was going to say to Cyrion."

Eriana's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? Why would you be talking to my father?"

Oghren shrugged nonchalantly, "Well, I figure since I'm the only one who knows him, it would fall to me to tell him that you died. So, I was trying to decide exactly how to phrase it so it would be easiest for him to hear."

Eriana flinched at the thought. Oghren continued, "Right now, I'm kinda torn between 'She died honorably defending the world from darkspawn' and 'she blindly threw herself at a mass of darkspawn with no real regard for her life and got herself killed.'" He leaned forward and stroked his beard. "I'm leanin toward the first one; though the second one is closer to the truth. I'm just not sure how well he'd handle the fact that his only daughter, the daughter he had already thought he'd lost once, had decided to completely give up on life."

"Ada," Eriana whispered softly, the image of her father's gentle face crossing her mind.

"It's a shame too, you know. I really don't look forward to seeing the look on the faces of those cousins of yours either when they find out. I really like those two, even though Soris can't quite hold his liquor." Eriana shook her head as she stared ahead into the darkness; this was a low blow, bringing up her family. Oghren sighed and leaned back on his hands. "And I guess I'll just have to send a letter to Leliana in Orzammar since I don't know how to get in touch with her. Of course, she won't get it until she finishes her work with the Legion of the Dead; I can't imagine how she will feel when she comes back after all that time in the deep roads and hears the news that one of her best friends is gone. But knowing her, she'd want to know as soon as possible, even though it would probably kill her. Then there's Alistair…"

"Oghren, please."

He ignored her plaintive whisper, "I'm pretty sure I'll have to tell him last because he'll probably kill me for letting something happen to you."

"Okay, Oghren," Eriana barked, fighting back tears, "you've made your point."

"Have I? I really hope I have because these last two days, you've seemed to completely give up on yourself." He stood up and began to pace in front of her. "Ana, I can count on one hand the people in this world that I consider to be a true friend, the people I care about with every fiber of my being, so I take it as a personal offense when one of them decides to just give up on life."

He stopped in front of her and finally met her surprised gaze, his own eyes beginning to tear up. "It usually takes a lot to earn my respect, and yet you managed to do that in a matter of weeks. But, damnit, kid, you went beyond that; you won my heart as well. Sod it to the Black City, Ana, I couldn't love you more if you were my own kin, so watching you do this to yourself; it's killing me."

Eriana stared up at the dwarf, dumbfounded by his sudden and frank confession. She knew he had become very protective of her lately, and that he considered her a friend, but she had no idea that his feelings ran this deep. He was right, of course, she had given up, had tried to numb herself to the pain only to hurt herself in the process. Glancing back over her shoulder, she looked at her companions, at Anders, whose hand was trembling with the lingering effects of the copious amounts of lyrium he had been ingesting to keep her alive, at Nathaniel, whose normally calculating eyes were fixed on her and filled with worry and compassion, the finally back at Oghren, who was sitting beside her, staring once again into the darkness. She had caused so much pain, both to herself and to her friends. It was all too much for her. Burying her head in her arms, the young elf burst into tears. She felt Oghren's strong arms encircle her narrow shoulders as he pulled her to his side.

"Now, I didn't say these things to make you feel guilty; far from it, in fact." He took her chin gently in his massive hand and tilted it up so that she was looking in his eyes. "I just wanted to remind you that you still have people who love you and are here for you." He stroked her hair gently. "Now I'm not saying this is something you can get past overnight; I'm livin proof it's not. What I am sayin is that you've got far too much goin for you to let yourself just give up like this. And though it may not feel like it now, this too shall pass as long as you don't let this pain consume you before then. Because, trust me kiddo, once you let that kind of darkness in, there's no getting it out. It consumes you, changes you into a person you don't recognize or even like, and I refuse to sit idly by and let you do this to yourself. You've done too much for me to let that happen."

Eriana looked up, whipping the remaining tears from her cheeks. "Oghren, I'm so sorry. You're right, so completely right. I've tried so hard to wallow alone in this grief that I shut out those who care. Can you ever forgive me for acting like such a child?"

Oghren grinned. "There's nothing to forgive, kiddo," he said, gently kissing the top of her head.

Eriana smiled weakly. "I'll try to pull myself together, I promise."

"Good! Because if, Ancestors forbid, something did happen to you, they'd probably put me in charge, seein as how I'm the only other livin Warden who has faced an archdemon," he chuckled. "Can you imagine what things would be like with me in charge? Amaranthine would be reduced to a pile of embers by the end of the month."

Eriana chuckled, "Brendan was there, too."

"Yeah, but he's still in the south, so leadership would fall to me until he got back up here." He patted her on her knee. "So do you think you'll be okay?"

"I think so, Oghren," she said with a sigh. "I mean, I'll try my best." She pulled her legs up to her chest. "I'm just having a harder time with this than I realized. I'd come to rely on him so much…" Glancing up at the dwarf she tried to smile, "Thank you for being here, Oghren. I don't think I could have made it without you."

"I'm here for you, kid; whatever you need."

The two Wardens continued to sit there, staring silently ahead into the darkness of the deep roads while their companions slept. Oghren had made her realize just how destructive her behavior had been, and though she wasn't quite ready to move on, it was high time she got her life back in order. Somehow amid all this chaos, she had to find a way to get her life back together.

-0-

Thank you to all my readers and reviewers. Hopefully, Eriana will be able to pull herself together soon.

A special thanks to those of you what have taken time to review: Kainen-no-kitsune, Judy, Danyal, Sharem, CynderJenn, Zeeji, and Warrose. Thank you also to those who added alerts: aluap73 and gamer 99. Thanks for the support!