Just like that, days flew by and I went from dancing on the street to the floor of a huge ballroom. My feet were steadier now, though the shoes I wore were hard on them. People surrounded us, but the room wasn't packed, leaving enough space to move with ease. The live band on the balcony above played a mild, quick passed beat that kept one moving. Following the rhythm, Zevran led me around as if the others were still figures.

He wore a white, long sleeved shirt with an amazingly crafted black vest that was adorned with gold thread. His pants were black, and around his waist was a long, red fabric belt that was left to droop open on one hip before coming together on the other hip in a knot. Upon his face was a simple, black mask – that covered only the area around his eyes and nose – with red markings on it that matched mine except mine was white, not black.

The party had been going for over an hour now. We had spotted our target a few minutes in. Anton was a sharp-featured man, and, even with his half faced mask hiding the scar Zevran told me he bore, he was hard to miss. His hair was short, slicked back, and a sandy brown. He wore something close to what Zevran did, as did all of the men here, but his was in Crow coloring – brown, black, and red.

Zev twirled me, and I lifted one foot, swinging it up to be next on my other leg, just like he had taught me, my hand on my skirt, making the large, vast material fan out like a cape. He had told me that in his dance that was my role; I was his cape, and he was the beast wrangler. Once that was done, he pulled me close again, his mouth near my ear.

"It is almost time." He muttered, and I glanced to where Anton was located. l found him gathering with a few others, one of which was the host. "They will leave for a room away from here to speak business. We will follow. We should be fine, till everyone starts taking off their masks, they will simply think we belong there."

I nodded, swallowing my nerves. I had never done anything like this before. The only thing I had to compare to it was when I had rescued the Queen, and that hadn't gone well. It was odd, that a similar event was happening now, when I had dreamt of that event the first night in Antiva.

"Just act the part, Rodwen." Zevran reminded me, and swung us around, dancing us off the main part of the dance floor. Towards the end he surprised me, his foot suddenly hooking one of mine, jerking it forward, and his arms cradling my back. I let out a startled sound, finding myself draped towards the ground in an exaggerated tilt. It lasted only moment, but it was what I needed. The shock of the movement shook me from my worry, and I reached up to touch his face for a moment, silently thanking him.

He set me back on my feet, and grabbed my raised hand, placing it on his arm and leading me towards the trail of exiting crows. We fell in between a single man and another couple. Zevran began to speak to me in Antivan. I smiled, nodding my head when he paused, pretending to know what he was saying, and wishing I did.

We came to another room, one that might have been a bedroom at one point, but had been re-purposed. There was a long table towards one end, and pictures, long swatches of currents and banners hung about.

I couldn't really concentrate on that though. Instead my eyes were flickering around the room, counting. Five, ten, twelve. There were twelve people in the room besides us. One of them was the Game Master, Anton, another was the prince hosting the part. I was sure Zevran had said his name, but I couldn't recall it now.

We weren't support to go after the prince, as Zevran was sure he would cower in the corner or flee when things started. After all, he might have had ties with the Crows and Anton, but Zevran had said the ties were more of a 'I'll let you live if you help me with the thrown' type of ties. The royal man wouldn't help in the fight. If he even could fight.

That left eleven people in the room. From what I could tell, they were all Crows, or in the company of one. Guessing that the two other couples would be simple dates, I could hope for only nine against the two of us.

I blew out a breath. Well, we had certainly faced worse odds.

The door clicked shut behind us, and a few, including the prince, seated themes selves. All around us, masks were being pulled away. I glanced to Anton, his face clear now, and eyed the scar that went from temple to jaw line down the left side of his face. It didn't look like he had lost the use of his eye, but it certainly looked like it hurt.

As masks came off, I tensed slightly, letting go of Zevran's arm and mentally readying myself. When we were all that was left of the unidentified followers, the Princes glanced at us, and then to Anton who had narrowed his eyes. However, he smiled, gesturing around them.

"Come my friends, don't be shy. The time for secrets is over. "

Zevran chuckled, waving a hand. "Ah, sorry, my company is a bit shy. She is not use to this kind of crowd." As he spoke, something flickered across the Game Masters face, and his hand slowly moved to his belted waist. "I shall start and encourage her, no?" He was smiling, and I knew he was having fun as he pulled away the mask and tossed it onto a nearby couch. Golden eyes and dark tattoo shown, the deserter stared his former leader in the eyes. "Miss me, Anton?"

Anton's face turned into a sneer and, quick as any assassin, he pulled a hidden sword from his belt. "Zevran! Men, kill them, now!"

I moved, my hand ripping open the snaps that held the skirt of my dress to the upper portion. The dark red fabric twisted apart, morphing into a single curtain of cloth and was thrown at the nearest, startled Crows. This left me with my top corset, one shoulder sleeve and some rather odd black, fancy small clothes. Sylvia had said that they were popular in Antiva. That the men liked to undress a 'pretty package'. I thought the whole thing was completely ridiculous, but that's how I felt about most human costumes.

My cloths weren't important now though. The twin, long bladed dangers, strapped to the outsides of my thighs were. In a flash of movement I pulled them from their sheaths and brought them up in time to parry away the axe of a nicely dressed woman. I was wrong, it seemed one of the couples was completely Crow.

I kicked the blade away, and smashed an elbow forward into her wrist, hearing it crack and causing the women to drop her weapon. Her body hit the floor with when I used my other blade, and swiped cleanly over her neck. As I moved to the next person, my eyes caught several things. The prince was cowering under the table like Zev had though, and my life partner was dealing with three opponents for the moment. Anton stood near the back of the assault, his hand on his sword, as he watched. What was he planning?

This wasn't a time to think though, and a sudden fresh wound to my arm – a passing blade I hadn't dogged fast enough – reminded me of that. In wasn't life threatening though. As I move to deal with the man who had injured me, I saw a throwing knife impale him in the temple. Zevran laughed from his spot, and I rolled my eyes, never quiet understanding why he found killing so joyful. Though, I have to admit, killing those who want me dead has never bothered me in the slightest.

I pivoted, jumping back from a swipe to my stomach as the two that had been caught in my skirt came at me. They were two large men – one elven, one human – both wheedling deadly blades. It was a bit humorous, that every one of us had a blade on them, even though no one would have known the wiser by looking at us.

I crossed my blade, catching one of my opponent's blades in between them, before forcing it to one side and shoving it off. I dodged the next one, raising a foot – bare now as I had kicked off the shoes seconds into the fight – and smashed it into the solar plexus of the elf. He wheezed, crumpling where I quickly plunged one of my daggers into his back. Seeing a blade in my vision I let go of my buried weapon – knowing I had no time to retrieve it – and ducked as the first man tried to lop off my head. I crouched, throwing out a leg and kicking out his own. The man stumbled and I lunged at him, tackling him to the ground, my free hand pinning the one he used to hold his weapon. His eyes went wide with surprise as he hit the ground, hard. I looked upon him for only a moment, seeing my reflection in his green eyes, before my dagger was in his chest.

Yanking the blade free from the corps I leaped up to my feet, turning, ready for more, only to find the others were dead. One women coward in a corner, crying and covering her head. Zevran was picking up his blade from one of the four around him. Anton had not moved, though his expression had lost its smile. I moved, gripping my other blade and pulling it free of the body it was buried in, causing the corpse to jerk and then slump to the ground once more. Zevran glanced at me, smirking, his approval glinting in his honey colored eyes. We had both killed eight…. Wait, only eight? In a split second those eyes I loved widened.

"Rodwen!"

My elven hearing picked it up moments later, hurried feet and only because one splashed into a forming pool of blood. I moved, reflex taking over, and with blinding speed I had acquired from shadow training, I whipped around, my braid dancing with me as I plunged both my weapons into the torso of the women standing over me. She gasped, her danger – inches from my face – clattering to the ground. Blood dripped from her mouth and I grimaced, pulling my blades out and watching her crumple to the ground.

Sighing, I turned once more, the nine Crows all accounted for, only leaving their leader left. I walked up to Zevran's side, stopping next to him, and eyeing Anton. The Game Master scowled for only a moment more before an all too common smirk – it seemed to be a trademark for the Crows – slid into place.

"Rodwen. That sounds like a name I should know." He spoke in common his accent thicker than Zevran's. Narrowing my eyes I reached up, freeing two of my fingers from their grip on my sword and pulled off my mask. Having no free hands to hold it, I let it clatter to the ground where it wobbled for a short time on the flat surface. Free of it, my Dalish tattoo showed clearly on my forehead.

"You should. Though I suppose breaking your word to people who just saved the world is normal for the Crows, isn't it?"

Zevran chuckled next to me, amused by my sarcastic remark – a trait I had picked up some time during The Blight. Anton raised an eyebrow, a flame flicking to life somewhere in his brain. "Ah, the famed Hero of Ferelden is it? Warden Commander, killer of The Arch Demon." As he spoke, his question turned to a decoration and his words became more venoms turning into a hiss towards the end. "A stain upon the Crow's spotless record."

Beside me, Zevran stiffen, taking a small step forward before I touched his arm with mine to stop him. I was too thick skinned for such remarks to bother me anymore. One didn't become the first female Dalish Warden Commander without acquiring it. Not that I had any intention of stepping into that role again.

"If you're hoping to anger me, you will be trying all day, Game Master." I pointed out. "You won't get the drop on us."

He laughed, but his grin didn't reflect in his eyes. "You are quiet the steel rod. I'm surprised Zevran made any head way with you at all. Tell me Zev, how rewarding was it, when you finally slept with her? How young was she?"

Beside me I felt Zevran tense ever so slightly again, but it didn't show on his face or in his stand. I, for one, fought against the heat in my face.

That night had always been quite a memory. It had happened after Talisen had appeared in our camp. After we had moved again and felt safe. Something about his appearance had finally made it possible for me to truly move on, even though I thought I already had after the trial at the Ashes.

My age often went unseen by most, as the war and the stress had changed my features, aging them slightly. It was hard to believe I had only been seventeen when I had become a Warden, and I had turned eighteen only a month before I had slain the Arch Demon. Thinking about it, I was barely twenty-four now, hardly the age you would expect.

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady their age Anton?" Zevran taunted after a moment, breaking me from my thoughts. When the game master narrowed his eyes, the elf chuckled. "Ah, but if you must know, I was hardly the victor. Rodwen is not easily fooled. Though I will admit, it was some of the best I have ever had, and she only got better at it."

Shocked and embarrassed I easily lifted a foot and stomped on one of his, the closest to me. He flinched, grimacing and then chuckled again. I wasn't willing to get too distracted, but I would make sure to have him regret that slip later on.

After all, as he had said, I wasn't easily seduced, I could ignore him, if I saw it fit.

"What are you hoping to get from this?" Anton snapped, the hand on his sword hilt twitching to move, to pull forward and release the blade. "You can't just simply wipe the Crows off from the world Zevran, we are every where."

"Oh, I know this." Zevran agreed, nodding his head slightly. After a moment, I felt a hand, then an arm, hook my waist and I let him pull me closer, his hot skin against my bare flesh comforting. "That is simply why we plan to just kill you… and anyone else who chooses to be stubborn. Killing off an entire guild is no fun Anton, but taking it over? If there is anything this city has taught me it is it adjust to power changes easily. Trust me, your mark in history will fall into shadow once we are done."

I shifted, keeping my blades loose in my hands as I watched Anton turn an angry red under his tanned skin. No one likes being mocked, and it seemed that the Game Master was no different.

"You really think they'll just fall into line behind you?"

"I can't see why not, if I offer a better life then you have. The torture and brutal punishments are fun and all, but they more often than not create grudges rather than ties. " For a moment I saw Zev's honey eyes darken, a seething range boiling there, if only for a moment. I remembered our time in the Fade, thanks to the sloth demon. I remember what I had seen in Zevran's dreams. He hadn't been with us long, but after that I really felt I could trust him. "You lost my loyalty the moment you mocked Rena's death."

It shocked me that he would openly speak of the first girl he had ever truly cared about. I could remember the night he told me about Rena perfectly. It was the night after the trip (might change trip to quest) to get the Ashes had been completed. We'd all been pretty banged up from the High Dragon we'd taken down. In fact, I had ended up throwing myself in front of the Antivan, taking the blunt of a fire breath, and burning both of my forearms. The elf had insisted on looking after me once Wynne had done all she could, and I guess, in some way, he realized he couldn't lose me too. Thought, at that point, maybe he hadn't been sure as to why. All he had known was it was time that I know the whole truth.

We had both lost someone close to us. Rena for him, and Tamlin for myself, but we both knew that we were happier with each other than we ever had been. It was just how life had turned out.

"Ah, yes. You cared for her, didn't you? You'll have to forgive me then, for doing it once more!" Anton snarled and quiet suddenly his hand – the one I hadn't been watching – struck out, tossing a glass vile at us. Zevran and I broke apart instantly, the vile exploding once it hit the ground, and spewing purple smoke everywhere. I held my breath, knowing it was likely a poison; I won't fall to that again. Sadly, it also works as a cover, the room is quickly being cloaked in the stuff, and I can't see either Anton, or Zevran.

I panicked for a moment, taking an unsure step forward, but not willing to walk into the purple cloud. I would be lost in there, and I had no way of knowing which way I should go.

I took a deep breath – making sure to avoid the smoke as best I could – and tried to think clearly as I circled around it. The room isn't that big, so they have to be around here somewhere. Only half the room is cloaked, the portion behind me only has wisps of the color in the air, so that narrowed the space even more. Zevran was smart, he won't stay in the smoke either. It's likely he is on the other side of the cloud, doing much the same thing as myself. Calling to him was out of the question though, as it would give me away, showing too much weakness to the target.

A weakness he had already exploited enough.

Then I heard it, and any resolve from moments before, broke, shattering like rotten wood; Zevran's scream.

It wasn't a full blown one, for he was good at hiding pain, the Crows had made sure of that. Anton must have surprised him. He yelped, and I ran.

Like an arrow from a bow I shot through the purple smoke, ignoring the lancing pain that seared my eyes instantly, stung my open wound on my arm. I ignored it all, my only thought being Zevran and how stupid we had been to do this alone.

I broke though the other side of the mist in moments, finally letting my breath out and gasping slightly. My burning eyes flickered about before I found him against the wall, a large knife in his shoulder, pinning him there. Blood was slowly dripping off the blade's handle and coloring his formal attire, a sight that sickens me.

I moved to him quickly, surprising him as I touched his cheek. His eyes widen and he shook his head, panicked.

"No, Rodwen, this is what he wants! Behind you!"

I spun on my feet, a long blade meeting and sideswipe me, cutting into my right cheek and slicing my ear. Behind me, Zevran cursed. In front of me, Anton looked surprised. My reflexes once again startling my enemy.

I knew it was time to finish this.

I crouched seconds later as he tried to lop off my head ,and kicked his legs hard. He stumbled, losing his footing, but not falling completely. Still, it gave me enough time to flip onto my hands, kicking my feet up to flip over and hitting the handle of the knife pinning Zevran as I went. I saw him wince as I wheeled over, landing on my feet, but I knew I had dislodged the blade from the wall.

Feet on the ground again, I vaulted towards Anton who had righted himself, but barely had time to meet my first blade with his own. I twirled, skirting behind him and knocking him to his knees with a kick to the backs of them. He grunted, and I moved in, my free blade touching his neck as I kept tension on the one fighting his sword.

"You knife eared bitch!" He snarled and I narrowed my eyes, pressing the blade closing to his neck. I could kill him easily now. Part of me wanted to, but this isn't for me. Not this time.

I saw Anton glance to the place he had pinned Zevran, only to find is empty now. Said elf was sauntering over, the very knife he had been trapped within his hand as he played with it.

"Good try, my friend. A lesser women would have fallen, I'm sure. Rodwen is not that though." He mused standing in front of us. He looked upon his old master for a long moment before his eyes narrowed, his face hardening. "I don't like you calling her that though."

"What's the matter Zev? Can't take a little competition." Anton replied back, his voice sounding a bit tired now. I wondered, quietly, if he had given up. The fight had been a little too easy; maybe being the Game Master had left him to rust upon his pedestal. Maybe he had realized he couldn't win when he saw us take down his men.

"Not at all, but that would require someone who hasn't already lost Anton." Zevran muttered, flipping the knifepoint out. "No hard feeling I hope though. It is, after all, just how lives like ours go, no?"

Anton frowned at his old student for a moment, before he sighed again. I saw the ghost of a smirk appear on his lips, something that could have been seen as agreement. He didn't say anything though, and I flinched slightly when Zevran suddenly moved and the blade he had been holding sank deep into Anton's chest. I felt the man spasm in my hold, his sword arm dropping limply beside him. I let it go, the blade clattering to the ground. Anton shuttered, his eyes rolling back as blood foamed on his lips. Zevran wasn't smirking like I thought he would be, his face was, for once, stone like. With a quick twist of the knife the Game Master went still, and Zevran pulled the blade free. I let go of the man, watching him fall like a broken toy onto the ground next to his blade.

His eyes were still open, and, while I had detested the man, I still bent over and closed them. In the end he had faced death head on, and, for that, I respected him in as much as I was sure Zevran probably did.

I let out a long sigh, stood, and stored my knives once more. The night seemed so long, yet it must have only been a few hours. Either way, all I want to do now is sleep. My next step, though, was to find the skirt of my dress, but I never got the chance. I felt a warm hand on my face, whipping at the blood from my cut. I found Zevran attached to the limb, his eyes clear and his face holding a rueful smile.

I reached up and touching his hand with mine, smiling slightly. It was over.

"So, what now?"

Zevran laughed, tilting his head and moving his hand to my chin, pulling it up. He was kissing me in moments and I let him enjoy his victory, my hands touching his shoulders, careful of his new wound that would need to be looked at very soon.

After a few minutes we separated. Zevran went to retrieve his weapons and I went over to where my skirt had been. I'm surprised to find it farther away then I had thought. As I heard Zev talking to the very petrified prince – well okay. He was talking, the prince was just staring and nodding . I picked up the smooth fabric. There was a tear in it – probably from frustrated Crows – but no blood stained it. It could be mended.

Mended and rebuilt and changed for the better, just like the Crows.

…

I woke up to the sound of a bell tolling. Laying there, under the covers I listened as it rang out four times, giving me something to work with. I wasn't sure how I had fallen sleep; the last thing I remembered was Zevran leaning over me, a needle in his hand. I remembered the prickles of pain that had followed, and his soft, soothing humming.

I had fallen asleep during my last tattoo session?

I sighed, shaking my head slightly and sitting up, watching as the covers were dragged away and pooled silently around my waist. Reaching up I touched my left shoulder and collarbone area where the rage demon had left its mark. The skin was tender, a sunburn on top of a bruise.

Lazily, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, wandering across the vast room of the master chambers. Only a week after the death of Anton, and Zevran and I had left the tattoo parlor, moving into our new home. The Crow's new home. We had more or less demolished the old guild zone along with the storehouse where they had kept new recruits.

It now resided inside of a building that might have at one point been a church, but now looked nothing like one except for the smaller, one story building that stood connected with a small tower. At the top was a stain glass window, behind it was the bell that had woken me. Most of that was now used for training and storage, while the main part of the building was for living. It was tall, with pale stone and large windows. There were three floors, two of which housed quarters for guest and member, and another that held a dining hall and bath. The top floor was off limits to any but its leaders, as Zevran had basically claimed it as ours.

Walking across the tile floor, I stopped in front of the full-length mirror Zevran had brought days before. I was wearing my new leather fighting gear, or at least the bottoms of it. My torso was bear, my hair a bit messy, but still in a braid. My eyes fell to the spot I had been touching and marveled at what I saw.

It blended in perfectly with the scorched black marks from the demon, turning them into vines that had grown much larger and expanded over much more of my skin. The black and green vines swirled and twisted on my shoulder and chest, leaves growing from within just the right spots. Near the center and over the start of my left breast, white and yellow flowers bloomed, so real I could have touched them. Daisies. My favorite flower, and something that was different from before.

I smiled, unable to stop the happy grin at Zevran's amazing work. He knew me better then myself some times. Knowing I was alone in the room, I found one of my new leather torso pieces and put it on, carefully putting the clasps together. It was lighter then I was use to. Antiva had found a way to make it more breathable, which I was happy about seeing as the weather was so much warmer. Pulling on my gloves and boots, I redid my braid and then set out, grabbing my daggers that sat by the door.

Down the stairs, one left turn, and I was on the second floor. There were a few members about, a pair of men playing cards in the corner near a window. Most of then spent time in the bottom of the building that had been set up like a meeting room.

"Lady Rodwen?"

Glancing to my side I saw a younger girl stop and bowed at the waist, a hand crossed over her chest, fist to her heart. Her hair was black, and under it were pointed ears. Her name was Lena, and she was fourteen years old. Much like Zevran she had been bought from slavery from the Crows, but had still been going through 'training' when it changed hands. I had been surprised when she, like many others, had taken to the new leadership quickly, happy about the changes.

Upon our new role, Zevran and I had made two things very clear to the remaining Crows. One was that the idea of buying slaves and torturing then was over. People could learn everything they needed to in a much better manner. It had also been said that the Crows were now a test-required guild. No one got in without first fight Zevran or myself, though that did not mean they had to win.

The second thing was this: Any old members who did not approve of our new leadership were now evicted. We had ended up having to fight a half-dozen or so assassin anyway, but the rest had left after seeing the slaughter. Fear was not the only way to stay the hand of any traitors, but it did help. The people that lived here were trusted and had proved they could be, Zevran had made it very clear that any attempts on our lives would mean death. Not right away if we needed information, but it would come.

There were still doubts in my mind about the safety of all this, but I trusted Zevran not to get us killed, and I had begun to trust others as well.

"What is it Lena?" I asked and the girl smiled.

"If you're looking for Master Zevran he is out on the balcony. He seemed lost in thought and I was worried. I was waiting for you to show up so I could tell you…" She flushed and looked at her feet. I smiled, biting back a laugh and patted her shoulder. She was hardly assassin material, but she had nowhere else to go.

"Thank you."

Lena nodded her head and wondered off to join the two men playing cars. I watched them for a moment as she peered over one of their shoulders and gave a hand sign to the opponent, which was caught quickly. Laughter followed the halfhearted accusation and I shook my head, turning and heading to where Lena had directed me.

Looking at them all, I could hardly see them as my enemy or as deadly killers. They were just people, as we all were.

Stepping out into the light and the outside air, I let the wind pay with my braid as I walked up to him. He was leaning on the stone railing, his eyes millions of miles away.

"If you stare to hard, your eyes might dry out." I said teasingly as I neared him. He twitched, eyes shifted and blinking, as he turned to look at me. He smiled and I closed the distant, hugging him and pressing my face into his neck. He chuckled, running a hand over my head.

"You are up I see."

I made a face, pulling back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean too. I guess I just…" I trailed off, once again not sure how to tell him what had happened.

"Ah, it is fine, Bella." He ducked his head slightly, kissing my forehead. "Does it please you?"

"It is beautiful." I muttered, knowing I had basically repeated him. I was learning Antivan slowly, very slowly. I had time, though, to learn it. "Thank you."

"For you? Anything."

I smiled, resting my cheek on his chest plait. Part of me never wanted to move again, but our days were busy now. Much like they had been during The Blight. They would only get busier, I was sure. There were a lot of Crow factions out there that needed to be taken down, or brought in. It would be a while before days became easy, but I had known that going into it.

It was time I told him everything, before there was no real time to do so.

After a time I pulled back and Zevran looked at me in question. I shook my head slightly. I nearly didn't get my next words out. "There is something I have been wanting to talk to you about. Something we have both avoided." I muttered.

I could tell by the way his face fell, that he knew of what I spoke, for he had quieted me on the subject the first day I had been in the city. "I suppose you are right." He seemed saddened, but did not move to make me stop. I watched as he leaned back , putting his elbows on the railing and eyed me carefully. I took in a deep breath.

"I know you do not wish to speak of it." I began, leaning on the railing next to him. The view of the city was amazing, the warm sun making the water sparkle. "I don't wish to either, but you need to know before we go any farther."

"You speak of the taint, yes?" His voice was tense, strained, and I stole a glance at him to see his face was much the same. I'm surprised that he knew.

"How did you…"

"It was a while back." He admitted quietly. "Our dear Wynne came to me, and told me of the warden's path. She told me one day, that if I stayed with you, I would have to watch you fall to the Calling, where you would descend into the Deep Roads, and fight till you died."

My chest felt heavy at his words, for they mirrored what Alistair had told me. It reminded me that he had said Duncan had been feeling the pull of the Calling. Being a Gray Warden after all, while a noble cause, was a doomed path.

It didn't surprise me that Wynn had gone to Zevran with such news. In the beginning she had been against our blooming relationship, worried that it might alter my course in the Blight. It had irritated me to no end. I had ignored her, and in the end she had relented, apologizing for ever thinking I was so easily swayed.

It made me sad though, to know Zevran must have carried her words throughout our entire relationship.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked, peering at him. He glanced at me, before his eyes moved away, having trouble meeting my mine.

"I didn't think it mattered. We were in a war. Either one of us could have died at any moment. It has never been my style to think too far into the future, Rodwen. You know this. "

I looked upon him for a few moments, staring at his saddened face. What could he be thinking now I wondered; did he believe since we had won the Blight, that my course in life was unchanged?

How little he truly knew.

I reached out, moving his gloved hand with my own. He looked at me, his golden eyes searching, and I smiled. "I'm not leaving you Zev. I already told you… I'm done with the Wardens. I want nothing more to do with them. The Calling can shove it."

His lips twitched and he chuckled slightly, shaking his head. "Ah, it is not often you speak in such a way." He flipped his hand over so his palm touched mine, and curled his fingers against my hand. "If that was not what you wished to tell me then, what was it?"

I looked down at the city, hating myself for having to ruin his mood once again. But, he needed to know. I took in a deep breath, wondering where to start. The beginning I realized. That was the best way.

"Do you remember that one night, when that tainted elf stumbled upon our camp? You and the others came just before he gave in, turning into a Shieker." My own words burned my throat at such a memory. My eyes burned even more though.

"Ah, yes." He replied slowly, wondering why I was asking such a thing, I was sure. I shifted my weight, my hand curling around his now, to seek strength in his touch.

"I never told you why I became a Warden. Didn't you ever wonder? Why I would leave my clan to doom myself for a cause that the Dalish were not a part of?" In the beginning, my dissent of the shemlens had been harsh. Only a few escaped my hateful stare – Alistair and Duncan, Wynn and Leliana. Morgan came later, as did the Earl and the rest. – I hadn't been use to their stares, or the way they looked down upon elves. I hadn't like the cities, or anything in them at first. Over time, though, I came to see things differently. For people are all different, no matter their race.

"Ah. I did ask Alistair once. I was curious, you see, but I didn't want to trouble you." He admitted and I looked at him surprised. Alistair and Zevran had been at odds with each other a lot. Their uneasy alliance never completely settling. "He hadn't really know, but he had ventured that maybe something had happened with your clan. That maybe you had been banished from it for some reason. Of course, when we went to stay with them later on after the Blight, that idea became false."

I tensed at his words. In a way, I had been kicked out, not banished, but forced to leave if only so that I could live. My Keeper had not wanted me to die, but I had always been welcome to return when I had gotten better.

"That is not the way of the Dalish. Banishment doesn't happen unless you have committed the sin of murder, and that is if you are shown mercy. More often than not when one leaves the clan, it is of their own will, like your mother did."

Zevran nodded his head, a brief sadness crossing his face as he thought about the mother he had never known. "Was that your reason then? Did you leave because you wanted to be a Gray Warden in the beginning?" He watched as I shook my head and his brow furrowed. "Then why?"

"I wish I knew." I muttered more to myself then to him, for I had often wondered why I had been given such a fate. Confusion still riddling his face, I took in a deep breath and began my story.

I told him of my role in the clan first. Told him of the hunting partner and my dear friend Tamlen, of how close we had been. I continued on, remember that day in the forest with the humans, and how my friend had been so curious.

"I had been as much as well, but, of the two of us, I was worried about what wondering around ruins might do. Tamlen convinced me that we would be fine, so we ventured in."

"I suppose you were right to be worried then, yes?"

I looked him in the eyes and nodded sadly. Zevran's hand squeezed mine, and I continued. I described to him what we found. Of the ruins and the signs of both human and elven workmanship. Then I told him about the walking corpses and how I had pleaded with Tamlen to go back, but my friend had kept going. I had followed, not willing to leave him down there alone.

"The last room we ventured into was large and a corrupted bear greeted us. Though, back then, I had no idea what was wrong with it, just that it was deformed. We had dispatched it quickly, and then all that was left in the room was us… and a mirror."

"A mirror?" Zevran questioned, his voice confused. He was rightly so, for who could think of a mirror as something evil. Tamlen and I hadn't, not a first. Nodding my head again I closed my eyes, the memories burning them even hotter.

"It was pretty, and stood tall and large in the middle of the room. Tamlen walked straight up to it, and I followed, though a bit perplexed. I became nervous when I saw it didn't show our reflection. That's when everything went wrong. Tamlen started saying he could see something, and I could see the mirror was glowing, and it scared me. I called to him, shouted at him not to touch it, that we should get back to the clan. He didn't listen and the moment he touched the mirror, light spilled out blinding me. I remember hearing Tamlen screaming, and the agony that ripped through my body."

"You were in pain?" Zevran stated, and I felt the stinging in my eyes burn to deep then and water began to fill them. "I don't… what happened?"

He was confused, just as I had been. "I woke up several days later, back in the camp of my clan. My sheets were twisted and soaked with sweat, and I couldn't remember ever feeling so sick. Everything burned and ached. It felt like my blood was on fire, and at the same time that it was being turned to ice." I shuttered at the memory. Even the poison from the Crows hadn't been that bad. "I found out upon leaving my tent that a Gray Warden named Duncan had found me and brought me back. My Keeper had barely brought me back from the brink, but she couldn't cure me. I also found out that Tamlen was nowhere to be found."

I opened my eyes briefly, regretting it instantly as tears escaped and ran down my cheeks. Zevran's free hand came up, and he lifted my chin to look at him, and then used his thumb to wipe away my falling tears.

"You don't have to continue Rodwen…"

I shook my head; no this needed to be told. He needed to know. Deserved to know. "I was dying Zev." I choked out. "The mirror was an Eluvian, I found out later. It's a magical item, something from the Tevinte Magisters. It had been tainted somehow, I don't know really. But when Tamlen touched it, we were both infected with the Corruption. " I heard Zevran take in a deep breath, surprised but I continued on. "That elf, Zevran, the one that turned into a Shieker, was Tamlen. I don't know how he survived for so long. Maybe it was luck or willpower, but he had been looking for me. He wanted me to kill him." That was what I had ended up being forced to do, when my friend had turned. "The only reason I didn't turn out like him was because Duncan recruited me. He said that by becoming a Gray Warden, my body could fight back the corruption. But…"

His hand left mine and suddenly, arms were around me, incasing me, pulling me into his chest. "Shhh…" Zevran tried to calm me, as tears fell uncontrolled now.

"It's not a cure. I know it's not, but the corruption has been slowed to the point where people could see it as me falling to the fate of all Wardens. But… I don't want to go back into the Deep Roads, I don't want to turn into a monster like Tamlen." It was one or the other, and I knew that. It would be years, a decade or two, but in time I would fall to the same fate as my hunting partner. Either that, or I could throw myself to the never-ending armies of the Darkspawn, and die like every other Warden, like Alistair would, in time.

It wasn't fair, and I hated that I had to tell him this, but he needed to know. He needed to so that he could either accept it, or tell me to leave. I would not begrudged him if it was the later, for who would want to watch the person they love turn into some creature?

I closed my eyes shut, willing the tears to stop as he pet my hair, holding me as close as he could. We were silent for a long time as he processed everything. After a while, my tears did stop and I opened my eyes, pressing my cheek into his shoulder more. His hand never stopped, not till I did that, and then he cocked his head and kissed the top of mine.

"Didn't I tell you time is irrelevant to people such as us?" He said calmly, and when I pulled way slightly, I found he was smirking just enough for me to know my words had saddened him. It wasn't really his smirk, it was too strained, but he was trying. He was not one to give up. "You're not leaving me, yes? So I shall do the same." He promised bring his hand up to touch my face.

I sighed. "It's not that easy… if… when it happens." I struggle with the words, for I didn't wish to speak them.

Zevran hummed, pulling me back and holding me by the shoulders to look at me. "If that were to happen Rodwen, I would not stand idly by and watch you suffer." He said quietly, great sadness touching his eyes at his own words.

I swallowed, catching his meaning and feeling my chest tighten at it. After a few moments I snorted at the irony. "You would be finishing your last assignment after all then, wouldn't you?"

Zevran chuckled, the sadness in his eyes lessening, but still there. "Yes, I suppose I would be." He pondered that for a moment, before speaking again. "But that is so far off, and as I have said people like us, well, who knows where our lives will take us." He lifted a hand stroking the side of my face. "It is not wise to linger on such thoughts. Let us store it away and enjoy our time together. That is all I have ever wanted Rodwen, and nothing will change that. Every moment I have with you, is a gift."

I could almost feel tears in my eyes again, but I willed them back, overjoyed by his acceptance. It was kind of a bittersweet thing, what he said, but for some reason it made a great deal of sense. As though there were no better option.

Everything suddenly seemed right.

I smiled, turning my head and kissing his hand. "I think, perhaps, that is the wisest thing you have ever said."

"You wound me Rodwen!" Zevran exclaimed, smiling, before he thought about it for a moment. "Though you are probably right…"

I snorted again, laughing, as his hand moved to the back of my head and he brought me closer and kissed me. It was a long and loving kiss, and I hated to end it as I pulled back slightly. "I think I could get use to that though." I stated, kissing him lightly again. "Living every second to the fullest, not thinking of things so far ahead of us. At least, not for a long time. We have a lot to do after all."

"Ah… Mio bella ombra." He sighed, his hand still in my hair, the braid coming undone with quick fingers. "Now you are speaking like the Queen of the Assassins."

Quick as a whip, one of his hands moved down, catching the underside of my knees and swinging me up into his arms before I could even squeak in surprise. Instead I just giggled, bring my face up to his neck and kissing it. A sigh escape his lips, one of contentment, one that gave me a tingling warmth in my chest.

As he brought me back to our new bed and laid next to me I realized that we truly were quiet lucky. After all, we had survived a Blight, killed those who threatened us, and taken what we wanted. Through all of that we still had each other.

That, in itself, made everything else worth it.

FIN

And it is done. A little bitter-sweet, but hey, thats how it had to be. Gray Wardens dont get happily ever after's, after all, but I think Rodwen got a pretty close one. while this story is over, this is not the last you will see of the Dalish warden. I have a DA2 short story in the works about Hawk and Fenris and what happened to them after Kirkwall, and she gets a bit of insight for said elf.

Thank for reading guys, R&R, I'll see you around!