Thanks to Seika for her help and comments. :)

In case you wonder: Airam is 18, but the majority in my version of Ferelden is 21. However, because he already passed Harrowing, he is considered an adult. Zevran calls him 'boy' or 'crazy kid' because he's older and much more experienced, than Airam.

Zev finally accepted that it's more than 'professional pride' that he's feeling… but it will still take some time till he accepts that it's love. So no, they won't be together any time soon. And besides, Airam is definitely not an 'easy lover'…

Epiphany

When he first heard about Haven, back in Redcliffe, he thought it was simply one of those dreary little villages where people lived the same way they had done for hundreds years ago and still, for some irrational reason, believed that it was the centre of the whole universe. He had seen more than one such place in his past, as they were often considered the best place to hide by those who knew they were targeted. Rather silly, if you thought about it, because such places were also the first that Crows checked. Haven however… well, he wouldn't recommend that anyone hide in Haven. Except perhaps a few particularly irritating individuals.

The first thing they noticed when they arrived was... emptiness. It was only early afternoon; there should be men and women working on little farms, tending animals, and talking with their neighbours. There should be children, fooling around and laughing. But there was nothing, except for a few stray hens. They tried to knock on a few of the doors, but nobody came to reply.

Then they found one house that was not locked, and entered. The stench was unmistakable and horrible, and they exchanged anxious glances before they continued. Silently, they entered into the room from where it was coming. It was small kitchen, with a stove, table, corner bench–and a big altar. Covered in blood. A lot of blood. Airam gasped, and quickly left the house, followed by Leliana. Alistair looked pale, but joined Sten and himself in searching the rest of the house. He examined the altar. For something to bleed that much-whatever it was that was butchered there-it had to be still alive, and rather big. Judging by how dry the blood was, he'd guess it was done this morning.

Once they assured themselves that there was nothing else to find there, they quickly left the place; Airam's face was still a bit greenish.

But that was just the first of the pleasantries that Haven offered to its visitors.

Somewhat later, they found a living person; a creepy little boy, silently humming some morbid song, so unfitting for a child. After a bit of persuasion from Leliana and his little Warden, the boy told them that everyone was in the Chantry, except for him and the shopkeeper. Now that is intriguing. The village was quite isolated from the rest of the world, situated miles from the main paths trough the mountains, hidden in a small valley. That they had a shop there was already surprising; but that the shopkeeper would be so busy to stay in the shop when everyone else was attending the sermon, well, that was… suspicious.

The shop was reeking of death and blood, just as the house with the altar, but before they had a chance to explore it the shopkeeper came running, shouting angrily that the shop is closed, and that he did not sell to strangers, anyway. He was wearing tall boots and a black leather apron stained with something dark; something that looked just like blood, which did nothing to remove their suspicion.

Airam gave Zevran one quick glance, then stood so that the shopkeeper could not see him, haggling about some poultices. He understood, of course, and quietly melted into shadows, sneaking to the back room.

It was good that the little Warden didn't see it. Yes, the shopkeeper had obviously been very busy before their arrival, cleaning the altar after butchery. He felt sick, but forced himself to endure it. Then he saw something small at the foot of the altar, and picked it up. It was a signet ring; he hissed as he recognized the arms on it. Alistair was not going to like this.

Slowly, he returned to Airam, who was still discussing prices with the shopkeeper, and slipped the ring in his hand.

"Another altar. Fresh."

Airam's eyes widened as he recognized it, too. Passing it to Alistair, he glared angrily at the shopkeeper, who finally noticed something was wrong.

"Where did you get that? Give it back!"

"I will be asking questions here. And you will answer, obediently and truthfully."

"What? Who do you think you are? Get out. I wasted enough time on you. I won't –"

"I want to kill you. Slowly. I want to gut you and leave you to bleed on that altar of yours. I really do. Give me reason, and I will." Airam's voice was soft, and calm–too calm. This was not a bluff. The crazy kid really meant it.

But the stupid man did not realize the danger. Instead of obediently answering a few questions, the fool suddenly pulled out the dagger hidden under his shirt. But before he could attack the boy, before any of them could react, Airam cast the spell; the one he knew only too well from his own experience. Rays of light pierced the man's body, and he was shrieking in pain and despair. Airam just stood there watching it, calm and quiet. When the body finally collapsed at the floor, he turned away and left the shop.

oOo

They walked to the Chantry in silence. Airam was lost in thought, his face blank, just like one of the masks they used for the carnivals back in Antiva. Zevran knew that expression only too well; this was the first time that his little Warden killed someone in cold blood, and not in the heat of battle. Although the man was a cruel murderer, Airam still felt remorse about it. It was… touching. It reminded him of a time when he was still able to feel something like that.

"That brooding does not fit your angelic face. You shouldn't let it trouble you. The bastard got what he deserved."

"Am I any better?"

There was so much bitterness in the boy's voice, he could not stand it. "Oh, let me see… are you an overzealous murderer that keeps a handy altar in his house for the slaughter of random travellers?"

"So? I murdered that guy… "

"No, you did not. He was armed and wanted to attack you."

"Yes, but still… Zev, I wanted to kill him. I'm the same monster as he was."

"You realize you're saying this to an assassin, yes?"

Airam's eyes widened–no, that thought apparently had not crossed his mind. "I didn't mean it like that! And besides, it's different, you had no choice– "

"Is that so? In many cases, I wanted those people dead, and I was glad I could be the one to end their existence. And I enjoyed it when I sunk my daggers in them."

"Yes, but if you were not a Crow, if you were not ordered to kill them, you wouldn't have done those things."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Perhaps I would have. And if I was in a situation where someone threatened my life; if I had to choose between their life and mine, then yes, I would do it."

They stared at each other for a moment and he felt anger rising in him. He wasn't sure if he was angrier at the boy or at himself. Well done, Zevran. But go on, I'm sure you can disgust him even more, if you try.

"Do you regret now that you let me live?"

"No! Of course not. That's not… I just… never mind. I behaved like an idiot. Sorry. Really, Zev, I–I'm glad to have you with me."

That touched something in him, evoking a whirl of emotions he couldn't quite name, of which he did not even know he had them, until now. Crazy kid. How does he always manage to say the most impossible things? He should be disgusted, he should despise me, and send me away. Or kill me. Unlike him, I am the monster.

"And here I am, happy to be had. Now come. Two such terrible monsters together, that sure means trouble. What would the others think if we started devouring each other right here?"

"You really wouldn't want to devour me now. I'd have a foul taste; I'm still feeling sick."

They moved forward in a much better mood. Real pity it didn't last long.

oOo

As they reached the door of the Chantry Airam stopped, suddenly looking uncertain. "I'd like to avoid another fight, but I'm afraid there will be lot more lunatics like that shopkeeper in here. We will fight only if they attack first. I don't want the slaughter of innocent children, nor a killing rampage in the Chantry. You hear me, Sten? And try not to provoke them, all right? Zev? Can I ask you not to try to seduce the Revered Mother?"

"Only if I can make up for it later, with you." He flashed his slyest smile Airam, who only rolled up his eyes.

"Let's go, then. And remember–we do not want to fight."

oOo

The Chantry was crowded. Practically everyone from the village was there. In the centre, there was an altar like those they had seen before, but bigger and more ornamented, and without any blood. It seemed there was some ritual going on, led by a tall man dressed in Chantry robes, while the others were chanting some dull, monotonous chant to Andraste.

When they entered, the chanting died away, as people turned to look on the intruders. The man that led the ritual glared at them with pure hatred, lips curled up in a cruel and confident smile. The pathetic fool obviously thought that he had an advantage, with so many followers around him. But a few glances around revealed that the problem would not be getting rid of them, but to follow Airam's order not to kill them. Just how they were supposed to solve this, he had no idea.

"Well, well. Such honourable guests in our humble village. I bid you welcome, Wardens. I am Revered Father Eirik. Might we know who you are, and to what do we owe this honour?"

Airam frowned. "Enough of this nonsense. We saw your altars. We know you killed at least one of the knights from Redcliffe. So let's stop pretending that this is a normal village. I want to know what is going on here and how you know who we are. And where is Brother Genitivi?"

"Ah, ah, so demanding. See, this is what happens, my children, when you let strangers into our village. First there was only one, and we were kind, we were welcoming. And how did he repay us? By questioning our traditions, our faith, even our Holy Lady herself! Then more came, and you still wanted to be kind, to give them the chance to amend their ways. But they, too, refused to give up their sins. And now, there are these Wardens and in their arrogance, they think they can insult us, that they can insult Her! My dear children, learn from this. Let this be a lesson for you, to not let your hearts falter, ever again!"

"That is not true!" Leliana protested. "We're not here to offend your beliefs. I am a sister too, and I am sure–"

"Do not dare to compare yourself to us, woman! You and your Chantry, all you do is deny our Lady the glory she really deserves! But soon the whole world will know, when she returns to her children again, and everyone will bend their knees before her."

"When she returns? What are you talking about?"

Eirik didn't bother to answer Leliana's question. He gave the signal to his men and attacked them. At least they didn't have to fight children–some of the women quickly led them out. They did it with a surprisingly calm air, as if this was just a short break from their sermon that would be solved quickly, and then they would continue their chants. Who knew how many travellers had accidentally reached this Maker-forgotten place on their way through the mountains and had their lives ended on that altar.

It was a tougher battle than he expected because, although most of the villagers were poorly equipped, they more than made it up with their fanaticism. Plus, there was quite a lot of them. Eirik turned out to be quite a powerful mage, and soon it was a battle between him and Airam, while they were dealing with the villagers. It was funny thing, he thought, when he watched his little Warden–for he determinedly stayed at his side–that he was quite clumsy as they climbed the mountains, yet in battle he was agile and fast.

Airam was totally focused, absorbed, in what he was doing, and yet somehow relaxed, at peace, at the same time. Just like the ship, he realized. Even when shouting commands at the rest of them, he hadn't seemed fully aware of their presence… No. No, it's actually the other way round; usually he was too aware of people around him, always a bit shy and defensive… strange, for someone who grew up at a place like the Tower, always surrounded by prying eyes, without any privacy.

It was a pleasure to watch him, though those robes could be bit more revealing… perhaps he should persuade the boy to go shopping… even in this dreary country, they must know something about fashion, no? At least in Denerim… yes, that should be their next stop. And the sooner they got rid of these pesky fools, the sooner they would get there.

Finally, the battle was over. He was exhausted, but without any serious injuries, and so were the others. Which was good, because Airam would not be able to heal them. The boy was sitting on the floor, panting, completely drained of energy.

"Damn, that old bastard was really tough. We should try to find some clue about what they did with brother Genitivi. Could you please do it? I don't think I can walk just yet."

There wasn't much to be found; even before the fight, there were few things that would have any value, and now… well. He looked around the Chantry. Everything was smashed and drenched in blood; even the stone altar was cracked in few places–the work of Sten's big sword, no doubt. In the vestry, they found only a few old Chantry robes, candles, and a disturbing number of sharp cleavers.

Then Leliana discovered a hidden door. They couldn't find the key, but Sten quickly solved that problem. The room was dark and smelled of mould. As they entered, they heard some sounds, as if something was prowling on the floor on the far end of the room. They quickly drew their weapons and Airam summoned the small ball of light.

They looked at the pitiful figure, chained to the wall. It was a man–that was all that could be said about him. His face was so bruised it was impossible to recognize any features, and his voice, as he talked to them, was hoarse and barely audible.

"So you came to end it?"

And that was how they found Brother Genitivi.

oOo

He was becoming more and more anxious, all his inner alarms set off. Something was not right, something was in the air. They should get out of this cursed place, quickly. Airam was still healing Genitivi, with Leliana's help.

"Airam. You can finish that somewhere else. Let Alistair or Sten carry him, if he can't walk. But we must leave. Now."

The boy looked at him, surprised. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, but… this place… people here… we must go. Please, trust me."

And the boy nodded. "All right then. Alistair, please help Brother Genitivi. Sten, could you take Alistair's backpack?"

"What? You can't be serious! We won't find a safer place – "

"The assassin is right. We should leave."

Sten's remark was enough to make Alistair bite off any further complaints. After all, Sten was the only one of them that had any real war experience. They quickly started to pack poultices, potions, and other things now scattered around Airam and Genitivi.

"The key, did you take the key? Eirik always had it with him! We need– "

"Yes, the key. Zev, did you find any key on Eirik?"

He shook his head. "No, there was no key, only the star-shaped amulet I gave you."

"That's it, that's the key. Don't forget it–"

"All right, all right. I get it, we must not forget the key. Now calm down. Everything's going to be fine."

But it wasn't. Of course. When did anything go smoothly for them? It seemed that the moment they came somewhere, everything started to go downhill. This time was no exception. When they reached the entrance door, they found they were barricaded from the other side.

"There's another door in the vestry–"

Crash. Windows were smashed into thousands of splinters, as something flew through–

"Fire grenades! To the vestry, quickly!"

They raced to the vestry and out of the door, which was not blocked, thankfully. There were people outside, this being an obvious, though it was a rather poor attempt for an ambush. The boy cast a paralysis spell, but did not allow them to finish the fools.

"Stop! Eirik and other people who attacked us are dead, but there's no need for anyone else to die. We mean no harm, we are leaving. But if you attack us again, I won't forgive you. I'll burn this village to ashes, if necessary to protect my friends. Think about it, before you decide to follow us."

They walked through the village, hands all the time on their weapons, but nobody attacked them. In fact, other than the ambushers they did not see anyone else, although they knew they were being closely watched and followed. It was creepy, and when they finally left the cursed place behind them, they all sighed in relief. Brother Genitivi assured them that the Temple of Andraste, supposed safekeep of the holy relic, was not far away now.

He wasn't sure if he was happy about that. Somehow, the idea of the temple being so near that village of lunatics made him uneasy. Maker only knew what they would find there.

oOo

"Wow."

"Amazing."

"I wish I could have seen it in its greatest glory."

Their voices echoed through great halls. Even ruined, with the roof caved in in several places, the temple was still breathtaking. The halls were big, with ceilings so high that even if three Stens would step on each others' shoulders they still wouldn't be able to reach it, as Airam pointed out. The walls were decorated with ornaments and reliefs, depicting scenes from the life of Andraste and her followers, or of the war. Most of them were at least partially damaged, but it was still beautiful artwork.

"Leliana, could you sing something for us? Please?" Airam flashed his sweetest smile on the bard, but she didn't need much persuasion, anyway. Really, not to sing in a place with such perfect acoustics would be a crime. And if there were any fanatics, they must already know that they were there; the echo in the empty halls multiplied every sound so much, it was impossible to walk quietly.

When Leliana started to sing, the whole world seemed to stop. The lyrics were in Orlesian, so he did not understand it, but it was full of sadness and loneliness, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes. I've gone too soft. But right then, it didn't matter. It felt so… right. Never before had he felt so whole, so at peace.

When she finished, they stood there for a moment before they moved on, in silence. Part of his heart would remain in that hall, forever.

oOo

Brother Genitivi was soon too tired to continue, so they left him in one of the halls with some exceptionally interesting stone reliefs, with Sten as a bodyguard. The Qunari did not seem too happy about it, but he did not challenge his little Warden. Good. If that oaf tried to do anything, after all they had gone through that day, he'd give him the honour of being the first test subject for his new poison, made of darkspawn blood. Luckily, it seemed Sten realized it, as well.

The rest of the party continued their excursion through the halls at a comfortable pace. It felt so long since they had some fun, since they laughed together; first there was Sten's betrayal and then the horrors in Haven.

And when they opened the next door, he had to chuckle, knowing Airam's reaction even before it came.

"Aaaah… Alistair. You and the others go on. You're in charge. I'll stay here. You may lock me in, and pick me up when you return." The boy lovingly picked up one of the tomes scattered on the floor. Really, when he gently removed the dust from its cover he had a glint in his eyes, as if he was looking at his lover.

He did not share Airam's enthusiasm, but the boy was so adorable, so happy, he didn't have heart to interrupt him as he went through the huge library, randomly picking books, checking their covers, turning their pages, reading few bits here and there, sometimes even smelling them. Most of them he put down again, but some he put away, on a pile, that was getting bigger and bigger every moment.

"Don't you even think of it."

"What? I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't play dumb, Airam. You're not going to take those books with you."

"You don't understand. I have to!"

"No, you really don't."

"They're valuable!"

"That might be true, and were you as big as strong as our brave Qunari warrior, I would not protest. But as you are not, and as you have already almost crippled yourself during this journey because of books, I'm afraid I cannot allow it."

Airam looked so downhearted he would feel sorry for him; but then he reminded himself that there were five big, fat books in his own backpack even right now, and the pity was gone without trace. But then the boy's eyes glittered mischievously again.

"Alistair! My dear brother! Surely you wouldn't refuse a favour to a fellow Grey Warden?"

Bemused, he watched the boy manipulating poor Alistair and Leliana into taking at least few of the books. After a lot of convincing, smiles and puppy eyes, the crazy kid actually talked them into taking three books each, and when he thought Zevran wasn't watching–as if that was ever going to happen–he stuffed two in his own backpack, as well.

But what amazed him most of all was that one of the books joined the other five in his backpack, after all. Ah, Zevran. You haven't gone soft. You've gone completely mad.

oOo

They searched the whole temple, but they didn't find anything that even remotely looked like an urn. Was it all for nothing? The very idea filled him with hot anger. When they discovered the long flight of steps, going somewhere down, he didn't think much of it. Holy relics were not usually kept in mouldy cellars. But he didn't say anything; he followed the boy's lead obediently.

Well, at least it wasn't a cellar.

It seemed that underneath the whole temple, there was a labyrinth of caves, connected with dark, narrow corridors, going deeper and deeper. Airam summoned a wisp, but even its light seemed somehow fogged and diminished down there. The air was hot and dry, and smelled of dung and dirt. And as if it wasn't enough, they were soon attacked by more lunatics. But these were much better equipped and trained than the villagers. These were warriors, and from their crazy shouts and rumblings it seemed they wanted to prevent them getting to wherever the corridors were leading. Which, of course, only made them want to get there even more.

The further they got the more frequent the attacks became. And they were already tired. It was only the unwillingness to sleep in this disgusting place that kept them going.

Then they heard the growl. Alistair stopped in his tracks. "Maker! Did you hear that? What do you think it was?"

"I'd prefer not to find out," Airam snapped anxiously. "Come, let's move on."

They went on, turned around the corner, and found themselves in a cave full of… but no, that couldn't be. He must be dreaming. And now would be the right moment to wake up. But he didn't. Which probably meant that he was awake. And that he really was in a cave with four big, vicious dragons.

Then one of the dragons noticed them. With a deafening roar it lunged on them, immediately followed by the other dragons. They turned to run back–only to find a large group of attackers blocking the way. They had fallen into the perfect trap.

Or at least that was what attackers thought. Perhaps it was because each of them realized how desperate the situation was; but when he looked at his companions, he knew they were not going to give up their lives so cheaply. They were not going to die in this smelly place.

Much later, they were standing over the dead bodies of dragons and attackers, exhausted, badly injured, but with eyes glistening with pride and revenge.

oOo

The second day in the caves was just as bad, if not even worse than the first one. Airam did what he could to heal them but they were still sore, and their pace was much slower. There were more dragons, but luckily most of them were much smaller, only dragonlings.

It was shortly after a cold and hasty lunch that Alistair pointed out the change. "Did you notice? This path is going up. I think we're near the surface again."

"You're right." Leliana took a deep breath And the air is much better, as well. Oh, thank the Maker. I would not like to spend another night in here."

"Should it happen, my dear woman, I would be glad to offer my… consolation, during the whole night."

"Thank you, Zevran, but I don't think I'll be that desperate… ever."

A few hours, and a few more fights later, they walked into the biggest cave yet. It was full of light, fresh air, and at the far end, there was a flight of stairs going up.

But between them and the stairs was a group of dark, grim men, led by the darkest and grimmest one.

"Stop right there, intruders! Tell me, who are you and what do you want? Why are you killing our children?"

"Tell me who are you and perhaps I will answer you." Airam could look very haughty when he wanted, and right now he looked like an elven prince that appeared right out of an ancient legend. It worked; the man looked uncertain, and his tone was much more respectful, when he replied.

"I am Father Kolgrim, Andraste's First."

"That's a high title to claim."

"But it's true, nevertheless. We are Her true worshippers, Her guardians. We care for Her children, and She gives us our life, our strength, our will."

"Her children? What do you… wait. You mean dragons? Are 'her children' those dragons we saw?"

"Yes. We are serving them, to make them as majestic and powerful as their Mother, and once they are ready, we will reveal Her glory to the whole world, and help Her claim back what was taken from Her!"

"So Andraste is a dragon? And here I thought Andraste was a woman, who was burned alive ages ago." Airam widened his eyes in mock innocence.

"Do not doubt Her power, intruder! She has returned to us, Her most faithful. But enough of this. Tell me now, who you are and what do you want?"

"I am a Grey Warden. And I am looking for Andraste's ashes."

"Ashes, you say? Hmmm…. perhaps… it's not all bad that you have appeared here. Perhaps you could be of some use. Help us, and we will forgive you your offences until now."

"I do not remember any offence until now, unless protecting one's life is an offence. But I, too, am tired of killing. What do you want?"

"The ashes that you seek are not far from here. Those stairs will bring you upstairs to the surface. There is another temple there, called the Gauntlet. In there, the urn with the remnants of Our Lady's old body is held. Those ashes-the representation of her weak, human form-are the last thing that prevents Our Lady to rise in new glory."

"And you want me to do what? Toss them out of the window?" Airam's tone was light, and he was smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. If Kolgrim had any sense, he would recognize the danger. But it was useless to expect common sense from lunatic.

"No. We want you to spill the blood of Her new, risen form, over the Ashes. That way, the old will be once and for all defeated, and the new will be freed."

"So… let me see if I have this correctly. You want me to defile the most sacred relic in Thedas with dragon blood, so that you can unleash a horde of dragons on Ferelden?"

"All we want is to give her back the glory that the Chantry stole from her! We only wish to give Her back that was always Hers."

"Then why haven't you done it long ago?"

"We cannot! The Gauntlet is guarded. There is a spirit, a traitor, and a heretic! He will not let us pass and we cannot kill him! But you are not of our blood. He would not recognize you. Serve Our Lady, Grey Warden and She will look kindly upon you. Become Her chosen champion! Not only will you be forgiven for crimes against her children, you will be granted power reserved only for her most loyal."

"Oh? And what power that might be?"

"A power of Her blood."

"I'd have to drink the dragon blood?"

Alistair cleared his throat. "Don't forget what happened the last time you drank blood to gain power."

"Ah, don't worry. I'm not going to forget that so easily. I'll remember it for thirty years."

Interesting. So the crazy kid drank some blood? Was it somehow connected to him becoming Warden? Was that why he defended the blood magic? What happened when he drank it? And why thirty years? Why not 'forever' or 'for long time', why exactly thirty years? He glanced at Leliana, but she didn't seem any wiser than he was.

"So will you do it?"

"If I refuse?"

"You will have to face the wrath of Our Lady. She would feel the blood of Her children on you, and She would revenge them. But if you agree to cooperate we will protect you, we will explain. She will listen to us, and will not harm you."

"Lovely. Tempting as it is, however, I have to refuse. I have had my share of drinking blood to last for a lifetime, thank you very much. And as for power, if I got any more I could burst, you know. And last but not least, I have no intention of defiling such a sacred relic. I might not be the most devoted believer, and I disagree with Chantry on many questions, but some things should remain sacred and unspoiled. So no, I will not do it. Now, could you please get out of my way?"

Unsurprisingly, Kolgrim did not like that answer. During Airam's little speech, he was getting redder and redder, and when the boy asked him to get out of the way, he roared with anger and attacked, only to collide with Alistair's shield. Kolgrim was just as tough as Eirik, but at least he wasn't a mage. There were two mages among his men, but he slit the throat of the first one and Leliana shot the other. After that, it wasn't very difficult, and none of them had serious injuries.

"We are ridiculously awesome," he declared proudly when all was done.

Airam arched the eyebrow at him. "You only realized that now?"

As they climbed up the stairs, they felt unstoppable; not even a horde of dragons would be a problem. The Archdemon himself wouldn't stand a chance.

Those feelings quickly disappeared when they saw 'the new Andraste', sitting in her nest at the top of the cliff. Those dragons they fought before really seemed like toddlers now.

"You know, I changed my mind. I don't want to fight that. Can't we just sneak around?"

"Yes…" agreed Airam, "I, too, am a bit tired… let's leave it for the next time."

"We don't have time for that, anyway. We must get back to Eamon," Alistair pointed out.

"And to fight it would mean we acknowledge their claim that this monster is Andraste," added Leliana.

They moved as silently as they could, and luckily, the dragon did not notice them. Only when the big door closed behind them, did they allowed themselves to breathe again.

He looked around. This temple was not as grand as the first one, but it had certain… atmosphere about it, that forced you to drop your voice and behave respectfully. Or perhaps it had something to do with the spirit blocking the door at the other end of the hall.

"Welcome in the Gauntlet, pilgrims. I have been waiting for you. I know what you seek. But only worthy are allowed to step in front of Andraste. Are you ready for having your hearts weighed and judged?"

Airam surveyed the spirit suspiciously. "You must be the guardian Kolgrim mentioned. So what do you want from us? I'm telling you in advance, I'm not interested in anything that involves drinking blood."

"No." The spirit actually smirked. "I am not like Kolgrim. He and his kin abandoned Andraste long ago. They serve the dragon now."

"They say the dragon is Andraste."

"It is not. Once, long ago, their ancestors were serving Andraste, tending the temple and pilgrims. There used to be many people coming to pay honor to the Lady back then. But mortals have short memory. Years passed, and less and less pilgrims came, until there were none at all. The guardians were restless; they started to have doubts. Then dragons came… Kolgrim's ancestor saw it as the sign from the Maker. That is how it started. Since then, nobody came to this temple. The children of the dragon would not allow it. Tell me, how did you get past them? Did you make a bargain with them?"

"No. I killed them."

"Oh. I see." The guardian studied Airam's face for some time, before continuing. "Are you willing to be tested, then? It is the only way to Andraste."

"In that case, it doesn't matter if I'm willing, right? Let's get this over with."

oOo

He expected more of those tests. So far, they were rather pathetic. First, the guardian asked them about their regrets. For him, of course, it was about her. Though he didn't let the blasted spirit say her name loud. "Do you regret," the spirit asked. If he was allowed to see so much, he should know that as well, no? But he replied, and truthfully, as well. Airam was quite disturbed enough, without him causing further problems. Though he did his best to seem calm and cool, the spirit's question had hit the nerve; that was obvious. The spirit asked if the boy still blamed himself for the death of his family, especially his little–what, he did not finish, because the boy interrupted him through gritted teeth, and the spirit did not insist.

Then there were more ghosts, asking them riddles. The boy snorted. "Why is it always riddles? It was the same during my Harrowing. Don't spirits know any other puzzles?" he asked the first ghost, but never received the answer. The riddles were all somehow connected to Andraste's life, and the boy and Leliana were able to answer most of them. He and Alistair guessed one riddle each, though.

After that, they had to fight themselves; their reflections, dark sides, or whatever those things were. So predictable. The biggest problem was with the boy's one, of course. But he was proud to see that his own one caused quite a lot of trouble, as well. So when they opened the next door, he was ready for pretty much anything. Except the one thing that he saw.

"Are you another demon? This becomes rather repetitive, and boring. Why don't you choose someone else, for a change? Why always her?"

"I am not a demon, Zevran. Though what I am, I cannot truly say. Perhaps I really am a spirit, brought from the Fade. Perhaps I am your memory… but that doesn't matter. The reason you see me, the reason why each demon tries to tempt you with me, is because I am your greatest weakness."

"If you want to tell me I should forgive myself and move forward, then don't. I don't need that kind of crap."

"I will not tell you that. I do not want you to forget what you did. I'm telling you to make your heart stronger."

"So… what? The Crows were right all along?"

"No, Zevran, on the contrary. Claim back what Crows stole from you. Reopen your heart. Do not let pain and guilt consume it. Accept the other things in your heart; do not belittle it. You know what I'm talking about. You have been given the chance to be whole again. Do not waste it."

"How can you say that? I don't deserve any chance. It was all my fault."

"Did I say you deserved it? We are often given things that we do not deserve, Zevran, but that is one more reason to try your best not to waste it. And it wasn't all your fault, either. Only someone with your ego would say that… it was also my fault, just as much as it was yours and Taliesin's."

"Your fault? For what? Being framed? Being betrayed? I should have stopped him. I should have trusted you. But I was an idiot… and such a coward…"

"I had the same training as you. I should have known better than to beg for my life. Were we not trained specifically for such situations, to remain cold and detached? I should have tried to explain myself, to give you logical arguments and proofs; instead, I mentioned love and trust. Although we were shown, all our life, and in a very explicit way, that there is no such thing. I was a fool and I paid the price. Please, at least don't take away my right to take my share of guilt."

"Rinna…"

"Ssssh. Go now. And remember; the Crows are wrong. To accept who you are and what you feel does not mean to be weak, but to be strong."

And with that, she was gone.

He blinked and looked around. It seemed they all had similar experience. Alistair was pale, looking as if he was going to faint any moment. Leliana was crouched on the other side of the room, crying. But Airam was the worst, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. He wanted to go to him, to hold him, to say something–but what would he say? What did he know about comforting crying children? It was easy to say, 'reopen your heart', but what did it mean, exactly? How did one do it?

He watched as Leliana went to the boy and hugged him, and whispered something into his ear, until he calmed down in her arms. He suddenly felt very old, and corrupted.

oOo

Luckily, there were only two more "tests" left. They came to the big circle room, with a huge chasm and no way across it. But the boy figured it out, they had to step on some tiles at the brim of the chasm, to create the bridge. How exactly they did it, he would never know. He wasn't really paying attention, his body automatically following any commands they gave him; once again, the Crows training came in handy.

The last test was perhaps the most idiotic of all. They could see stairs leading to a platform with a statue of Andraste and the Urn below it, but the path was blocked with fire. In order to walk trough it, they had to 'give up all worldly possessions'; in other words, they had to undress. Normally he would have commented on it, but not now. He wasn't in the mood, and judging by the look at the boy's face, he wouldn't stand for it either. They had to turn away as he undressed and walked through the fire, and he obeyed, though Leliana teased him for it.

And then it was over, the guardian spirit congratulated them, and they went to the platform and took the ashes, and finally, finally were on their way out of those disgusting mountains. Leliana and Alistair were elated, talking about miracles and the Maker's grace, and how the Maker was guarding them.

Until the moment they heard the deafening roar and swish of wings right above their heads.

The new Andraste had noticed them and had chosen them as her next meal.

oOo

It was a desperate battle. Their weapons were sliding off its scales without causing any harm. The only place where it would be possible to cause some damage was the belly, but that meant standing right below it and risk being stomped by its huge paws. Or to climb it and stab its eyes. But that was more easily said than done. He and Alistair tried, several times, but never managed to get close enough. If it wasn't for Airam's spells, they wouldn't have survived more than five minutes. For once, the boy was fighting as they agreed, staying out of the fray, casting freezing, paralysing and healing spells from distance.

Then the dragon realized where the spells were coming from. And he could only watch in horror as it flew up, landed right in front of the boy and grabbed him, almost biting him in half. He sprinted towards it, but there was no way he could get there in time. The boy was screaming, his blood trickling down the monster's teeth and mouth. When he finally got there, the dragon had thrown him away and turned its attention back to the rest of them. Airam flew for at least twenty meters before crashing down, a small bloody pile on the hard stone.

He saw Leliana immediately running to Airam, he heard himself cry in rage, and yet it felt surreal, as if he was just watching a nightmare. This nightmare version of him ran under the dragon, and plunged daggers right in between its thighs. It roared in pain, stopping its attack for few seconds. It was a chance they were looking for. In one quick movement, Alistair jumped the beast's back, and climbed up its neck, surely and without hesitation, as if it was his every day routine. The dragon tried to shake Alistair off, forgetting the danger below for a moment. He stabbed it in the belly, driving his daggers as deep as possible. The beast didn't know what to do first, where to move to escape pain; then Alistair ran his sword through its head.

The monster howled and crashed on the ground, its blood soaking everything around. He didn't care. Never giving it another look, he ran to the boy, now lying quietly in Leliana's arms.

"He lives."

Two words, and the world fell back into its place once again.

"I used a bit of the Ashes."

Leliana's voice sounded tired and apologetic, as if she expected that he would object. As if he cared about the Ashes, or some stupid Fereldan nobleman. All that mattered was his little Warden.

"But I don't know if it works… I thought he would be healed immediately, but… he… might still die, yet."

"He won't." He couldn't die. Not now, not after they defeated that monster. The Maker wouldn't allow it. He defended your bride. He fought for her. You can't do that. We need him. Fereldan will be destroyed… the Archdemon will win. Is that what you want? You're the Maker, you're supposed to be kind and caring. Don't do this. Don't let him die. Please, don't take him away from me. I don't have anyone else. I need him. He's everything to me. And he's so innocent. Despite what he thinks, he is innocent, he's not even of age yet, he's just a child. If you want to take someone, take me. I know I never much cared about you… but I'll do anything, if you just let him live.

How long were they sitting there, listening to his shallow and erratic breathing and watching his pale face for any signs of change? It felt like years, but it probably wasn't more than a few minutes before the miracle started. The bleeding stopped, the wounds started to close, and the breathing became more regular.

Maker, thank you. And Andraste. I'll never say one word against you again. Thank you for sparing my boy.

The wounds were closed, but Airam had lost so much blood. He was still unconscious and drenched in cold sweat. So they quickly brought all their things there set a camp, and took turns watching over him, trying to keep him warm, rubbing remaining poultices on his wounds to prevent scaring, wiping away the sweat.

His turn or not, he did not move away from Airam, not when Alistair prepared the simple dinner–only some bread, cheese and dried meat, nobody was in the mood for cooking–and not when Leliana told him he should go get some sleep.

He was not going to waste his chance.

oOo