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Zevran’s fingers traced the lines of the knotwork tree on Erina’s back. As they both worked to catch their breath, she lay on her stomach while he leaned over her with his cheek on her shoulder.
The Antivan broke the silence. “I was sent to deliver a message, you know.”
Erina laughed. “Who sent you? Loghain again? It worked about as well as the last time he tried.”
Zevran chuckled. “No, not the traitor. Eamon and Anora wish to speak with you, and ask yet again why you refuse to sleep within their quarters. I must echo the sentiment.”
“I don’t want human handouts,” Erina sighed. “That place represents everything I despise. Including Eamon and Anora.”
The assassin made a pitiful whining sound against her. “But a tent in the woods outside the city? Truly? We could have running water and hot meals served to us, in bed if we wished!”
“You already do,” Erina reminded him. “You’re staying there. I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“And the beds are so comfortable that it is a shame you will not join me in one…”
Erina sat up and turned away from him, holding a blanket close to her chest. “Drop it, Zevran.”
Concerned, he laid a hand on her bare shoulder. “What is it that bothers you so?”
Intense emotion bubbled over at his touch. Her vision went blurry with a sharp spike of tension, just as her elbow hit his chest and pushed him away from her, knocking him onto his back. A moment later, her vision was clear, but regret and discomfort made her stomach twist.
She looked down at Zevran, hands still clinging to a blanket at her chest. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean, I just…”
Zevran sat up slowly, looking much like a prey animal in the sights of its hunter. “I… did not mean to anger you, I swear this.”
“You didn’t. Well, you did, but, it’s not you. Not really. You just have to understand that I have good fucking reasons for not wanting to stay there, or in any human noble’s home.”
His hand was at his chest, where she had struck him. He nodded slowly. “I do. I understand. I… apologize. I did not know it was a personal matter, and I would not have pursued it if…”
Erina shook her head, drowning his words out with a groan of frustration. “It’s fine. Really. I swear. Let’s just get dressed and go see our noble overlords. I’m sure they’re wondering what waylaid their message.”
Zevran passed the opportunity to make a joke about the word “waylaid.”
This was not happening.
She had spent the last week handling crises in every area of Denerim, and in her own romantic life, but she had been barred entry to the Alienage every time she had attempted to enter. Nobody would tell her why, and Eamon kept sending her on other missions.
She had intended to use this meeting as a chance to push her way into the Alienage to see her family again, but it turned out that was not necessary.
Erina stared at the shape of Anora’s mouth as it spoke down to her.
Something was “wrong” in the Alienage. Plague was suspected, but either way, the elves had been locked in to “quarantine” them, and things were beginning to get raucous and violent. Nobody was being allowed in to help them, but they were graciously requesting Erina’s assistance in sorting out the matter. Like her people were animals who needed “dealing with.”
Erina stood outside the doors of the meeting room, hands clenched into fists so tight she felt her palms might bleed. The clacking of claws on the stone floors was all that she heard for a moment, followed by a pitiful whine. Anxiously, her mabari pushed his head against her hip. She let the hound support her, one hand resting on his broad head while her fingers delicately scratched behind one of his ears.
“I should have been there,” she whispered. Her hand drifted to the chain around her neck. Though the treasure it held was buried beneath her armor, she could see the earring in her mind’s eye as her fingers caressed the links in the necklace. Too busy playing parlor games and chasing boys to save her own family.
She had forgotten who she was. What she was fighting for. And now it might all be gone.
“Erina?” Alistair’s voice called out to her from a side door.
When she glanced up and over at him, she saw her favored companions standing near him. Some looked happier than others.
“What?” Erina’s voice felt flat in her throat, the speech heavy in her tongue.
“It has been standing in the hallway for minutes, saying nothing.” Shale sounded perturbed, but that was normal for them.
“We’re just concerned, is all.” Alistair did sound sympathetic. So why did his voice make her want to claw his eyes out right now? “Is there anything we can do?”
Before Erina could put her thoughts together, Morrigan came to her rescue. The sharp command of the witch rang out from behind Erina: “Honestly. Stop gaping and leave the woman alone. She knows where to find each and every one of you, should you be necessary. Though, in some of your cases, ‘tis unlikely that will ever occur.”
The small crowd filtered away, apologies mumbled beneath their breath, and Erina turned to face Morrigan. “Thanks. I… think I did lose myself for a second, there.”
The witch quirked an eyebrow. “I take it our esteemed housemaster has given you news you find troubling.”
“You could say that.”
“The coward,” Morrigan spat.
That shook Erina out of her stupor. “Pardon?”
“He is a cretin to keep you from your kind until you appease his every political desire. He is using you, as is the way of ‘civilized men.’” Her final words dripped with disdain.
“How did you hear…?”
“I do not like to be in the dark while being kept like an animal in this place. You forget my abilities?”
Erina laughed quietly. “I would never. I just didn’t suspect we had a visitor in there. My mistake.”
Morrigan inclined her head to agree. Irritation was still plain on her face, but her words came out kindly. “I am no expert in the healing arts, but as you have shown kindnesses to me that I may never repay, I would like to accompany you into the alienage. If you will have me.”
“Of course,” Erina nodded, relief and panic racing through her thoughts simultaneously. “You think I would trust Wynne near my family?”
Morrigan sniffed back a laugh. “Very well. Let me know when we embark. I shall be in front of the estate.”
“Thank you,” Erina said quietly. “I’m going to prepare and round up the team. We leave soon.”
Erina sharpened her knife for what felt like the hundredth time. The clang of stone on metal was becoming hypnotic, such that she didn’t hear the padding of leather boots behind her until a hand touched her waist.
She looked up, seeing only tapestry-covered stone walls around her, and spine went rigid as her knife pressed against the gloved hand of the stranger.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered harshly.
“Erina,” Zevran said quietly, taking his hand away from her. “Morrigan informed me… I was simply coming to see if you are, well, okay. And I see I have found my answer.”
Chills crawled over Erina’s skin. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, sheathing her knife on her hip.
“You have been saying that a lot today.”
“Well, apparently I have a lot to be sorry for.” Erina turned to face him, anger resting in her shoulders and brows.
She could tell from his face that she was scaring him. He needn’t have bothered emoting – she was scaring herself.
“Is it something I have done?”
“No. I just… Eamon just told me that there is something happening in the Alienage, and we have to go take care of it. And I should have been there before, but nobody would let me in, but I didn’t push hard enough to make it happen.”
Zevran wrinkled his nose like a sour taste crossed his tongue. “The Alienage? I presumed you left such a place with no intent to return.”
“What? No. My family is there, Zevran. My father. My cousins. I have… my people are there. Our people.”
He shook his head adamantly. “They are not my people. Any who chooses to lock himself away is not mine.”
“Excuse me?” Erina’s emotional turmoil began to sharpen, and his face appeared to have a target painted on it.
“Do not take me wrong,” he took a step back, hands raised. “I feel for their plight. Clearly their conditions are terrible. But why stay? Why choose to remain in a place where you are not free?”
“It’s not that fucking simple.”
“Is it not? You left and became a Warden. Perhaps your life is not prestigious, but you are not trapped and ill, caged for human enjoyment. Instead, you are shaping the entire nation’s fate.”
Her vision went red. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me,” she spat. “We have a history! Our ancestors were stripped of their freedoms at the point of a sword, and this was our offer -- this was our compromise! Freedom was not an option. It never was. I fight for our rights on the outside of the Alienage now, but don’t think for a moment that I left that place behind. I carry it on my fucking back. I am not an escapee of the Alienage, Zevran. I AM the Alienage.”
Zevran shook his head, sighing. “You are more than that. You do not owe your life to those who will not stand up and fight for themselves.”
There was a sting in her palm and a red mark on Zevran’s face; she did not apologize.
“If only we all threw ourselves endlessly onto the blades of humans who wish to rape and murder us, perhaps then would we be free?” She took a step closer, voice raised. “You know nothing of what we face or the powers that keep us there. My mother fucking died fighting for herself when I was 14! They murdered her in cold blood for doing exactly what it is you think we should all do. Do not tell me I don’t owe her anything. But, perhaps in your view, we should all be so lucky as to never know our mothers? It seems to have been such a freedom and a boon to you!”
Zevran’s jaw set firmly as his eyes glazed over; he was no longer present with her. She regretted the words as soon as they came out, but she had nothing to say to replace them. She was so empty, and feeling very much alone.
“I will be ready to leave, should you wish me to accompany you,” he said, voice cold.
“Zevran,” Erina begged, her voice cracking in her throat. “Don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry.”
“The words again,” Zevran narrowed his eyes at her. “Perhaps it is something I am doing to require such apologetics from our brave leader.”
“You don’t understand!” Erina protested. “You don’t know what this place is doing to me.”
“Perhaps it is time you cease attacking me and inform me, then!” Zevran’s voice was strained and louder than he might have intended it to be.
Tears of anger, hurt, and frustration welled in her eyes and stung as she tried to hold them back. “I don’t know how!”
“You say that you need me, yet when you are hurting you do nothing but hit me, push me away, and drive daggers of the past into my heart. I will not be your anvil, to strike your weapons against until they are ready for the true enemy. What is it that you want from me?”
The walls of the armory felt like they were closing in on her. Cold, dark stone and tapestries smothering the walls not covered in weapons and armor were all that she could see for a moment, and the memories of her wedding day came rushing back vividly into her awareness. Her hands covered her eyes, fingers clawing at the hair of her scalp in an unsuccessful attempt to push the thoughts away.
After moments of frantic breathing, of hate and anger seizing every muscle in her body, she found herself on the floor, knees pulled to her chest and back hunched over. Everything hurt.
She felt the warmth of a body beside her, but Zevran had learned to keep his hands off of her today.
“Erina?” he asked tentatively, fear replacing his irritation and hurt.
“I’m… I’m okay,” she whispered, trying to regulate her breathing. “I’ll be okay.”
“Talk to me.” His words were not demanding. They were a plea. Someone truly wanted to help her, and through the haze of her flashback, she knew that if she passed the opportunity to let him… things would never improve.
Erina swallowed hard, and tried to tell her story. “I… left the Alienage on my wedding day.”
“You were… betrothed? Wed?”
The shock in Zevran’s voice made a small laugh bubble up. “Engaged. Ceremony didn’t happen. He, um, died. But before you ask, it wasn’t me.”
“I’m… sorry. I do not know what to say.”
“It was an arranged marriage. The elders in other Alienages met with ours to choose him for me. My father had a say. His name was Nelaros. He seemed nice, but I barely got to know him, before… shit.”
Zevran inched closer to her in support, still leaving his hands off of her person.
“There was a human. Vaughn. The son of the fucking Arl of Denerim. He had been there earlier in the day, looking for women to take as pets back to his estate. Shianni, my cousin, and I… we fought him off. She hit him with a broken bottle, though. Wounded his pride, I guess.
“Well, he came back. During the ceremony. He… brought guards. He hit me. He hit Shianni. I didn’t have my weapons or my armor, and he… he knocked me out. He took all the women present, and nobody did a fucking thing to stop it. We were carried by guards to his estate, and I woke up there. I don’t know if anything happened to me while I was unconscious, but… another girl died trying to run from the bastards. I took them down and got a sword.”
Zevran’s voice was hushed. “You… are brave.”
“There was no other option,” Erina shook her head. “Shianni wasn’t with me and the other girls. They had her. I had no other choice. I ran into Soris, my cousin, and Nelaros… they came to save us. Nelaros died fighting. He probably was a good man after all, even if I did not want to marry him.”
“No?”
Erina leaned against Zevran’s chest, letting her muscles begin to relax. Retelling the story was becoming easier, while the room became less threatening.
“You’ve met me, Zevran. Do I seem like someone who wants to be married away? No amount of tradition could ever convince me to sign my future away like that.”
He let one hand rest on her hip, letting her know she was secure. “True. Continue?”
Erina took a slow breath. “I killed every human I could. Poisoned some. Any and all humans in my way to Shianni died. When I found Vaughn, he and his men had… they had already taken what they wanted from her. I saw red. And despite everything, the fucking savage tried to bribe me to let him keep the women he already had, for forty gold. He promised they’d be returned the next morning… when he was done with them.”
Zevran’s voice was rough, angry. “Please, tell me all the ways in which you killed him.”
“It was a blur, honestly. I just remember finally kneeling on top him, enjoying feeling him squirm and scream for mercy as an elven woman sliced his throat from end to end. Had I the time and creative energies you’ve taught me, I would have stuffed his dick down his own throat. But I had more pressing matters to attend to. Poor Shianni. She was… different, after that. And when I got back to the Alienage, the officials were there and everyone knew what had taken place. I took the fall for Vaughn’s death, and Duncan, the senior Grey Warden who happened to be there scouting, conscripted me to avoid me facing the death penalty. That is why I left the Alienage. I was kicked out by defending it from the monsters who prey on it, and taken by a well-armed and battle-trained human could not ‘interfere’ with the situation and bloody his own swords for our sake.”
Zevran’s exhale was warm against her cheek. “I… I am sorry. That I did not know, and that… it explains a great deal, I just…”
Erina rested her hand on top of Zevran’s, soothing his concern. “You had no way of knowing. I didn’t… I didn’t want to face it. Admit it. Seem weak, I don’t know. But yes, that’s why I will not be sleeping in this human estate. It’s why I will continue to bear the Alienage in mind, even when I don’t belong there anymore. I’m sorry it… I’m sorry I couldn’t just let you in.”
Zevran rested his chin on top of her head for a moment, thoughtful. “I understand. This is… not something either of us have been trained to do, we could say.”
“It doesn’t excuse me being a royal bitch about it.”
“No, but I know now you were not lashing out at me in hatred. I will heal. As will you.”
“You’re still wrong about the Elves here, even if you don’t feel a connection to them.”
“Perhaps it is so. Will you take me? So that I may see your home?”
Erina’s eyes shot open wide, and the blood drained from her face. “To… meet my family? Shit.”
Zevran’s laugh resonated in his chest, and she felt it in her own frame. “I will behave?”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Alas. Perhaps you should have chosen a better assassin to bed and develop feelings for.”
“A better assassin might have killed me. I’ll take you.”
“Your words, they are knives.”
“I know. I don’t know why you put up with me.”
Zevran’s smile pressed against her cheek. “I like knives,” he whispered before gently kissing her.