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“Laris, now that we’re back in camp we need to speak about what happened in Redcliffe.”

Laris sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to face his fellow Grey warden. He had known that this conversation was going to happen sooner or later, Alistair had been much too quiet during the aftermath of Redcliffe, but the mage had hoped for some time to come to terms with his own actions.

“You were there when it happened, Alistair. You saw exactly the same thing that I did.” Laris said, trying to keep the exhaustion and resentment from his voice.

“I know; I’ve been thinking about it, you killed Conner! You killed that precious little boy. How could you do that?!” Alistair asked, anger in his voice and hostility in his eyes. Laris saw Zevran moving forward, and shook his head slightly to get him to stop.

“Do you honestly think I took enjoyment from it?! I can promise you, that was the last thing I would have felt, Alistair. What would you have had me do?” He said, annoyance and hurt beginning to creep into his tone.

“You could have let Lady Isolde sacrifice herself. It was her fault this all happened in the first place, wasn’t it? Blood ritual or not, if one of them had to die it should have been her! This was the Arl’s son we’re talking about here! What do you think he’ll say when we revive him?” Alistair asked, glaring and waving his hands around wildly.

“I do not know, Alistair! I weighed the choices given to me and tried to make the best decision possible. I am sure though the Arl will recognize that and will see there were larger things at stake.” Laris said, pulling on all of his control to keep his face and voice void of the emotions his could feel building in his chest. Feeling the stares of their companions was not helping his slowly eroding restraint.

“I just don’t know how you could do it! How you could make that decision! I owed the Arl more than this.” Alistair said, his hands falling to form fists at his sides. It took every bit of self-control Laris had not to lash out at the warrior and remind him that HE was the one who decided the mage should lead. Which meant time and again Laris was the one that had to make the tough decisions. The elf certainly knew no one else was willing to make them. Lucky Alistair’s last comment was enough to distract the mage from his ever darkening thoughts.

“You…Owe…the Arl…” Laris said, crossing his arms over his chest and finally allowing the hurt to show. “I think I understand now, it’s not about me and what I’ve done. Your entire rant is about him and you, it was never about me! Not truly.”

“No!” Alistair shouted, before looking away guiltily. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. I guess it’s all said and done anyway. It’ll have to be enough.” Looking back Alistair finally noticed the hurt in Laris’ eyes, and felt shame fill him as he looked away again. “I know that you did what you had too. It’s just all this death. It doesn’t matter, lets just stop there before I do more than shove my foot into my mouth.”

Laris watched his fellow warden for a moment and when the other man continued to avoid his eyes, the mage turned, whistled for Joseph and walked out of camp. Alistair’s head snapped around and he stared after the elf and his dog, before moving to follow him, but stopped when Morrigan stood in his way.

“Perhaps you should leave the Warden alone with his thought for now. While you brooded and mopped in Redcliffe, Laris did actual work, with little time to himself. Than instead of finally allowing him a moment, you attack him the second we enter camp. Twas not very sporting of you.” She said, a look of disdain on her face.

“I have to agree with her, Alistair. You were out of line, and while you should apologize, I think the best thing you can do right now is to allow him some space.” The strawberry blond man turned to Leliana in surprise, finally noticed the looks the others were giving him, he nodded his head and went to sit down by the fire.

****************************************************

Zevran slowly and carefully made his way through the woods, three bowls of food balanced in his arms. Normally Alistair would be the one to bring Laris his food, but because of their argument everyone felt it was best if someone else did it. It was a surprise, when he had been nominated to go. The rogue had been sure that the others were still wary of him, but Leliana had explained that Zevran was the second most talked to person in their group. This fact alone made them feel that his presence would be more tolerated than anyone else. Unable to deny that they could be right Zevran had finished his food quickly and been on his way.

Realizing that he was approaching the area where Laris was, something the blond elf knew after following him from camp, Zevran purposely stepped on several twigs so that the mage would not attack him. As the rogue cleared the last line to trees, he found the other elf watching him from the edge of the lake, the same place he had been sitting all evening. Raising the bowls slightly, to explain his presence, Zevran breathed a small sigh when the mage nodded once and patted the ground next to him. Walking over, the assassin held out one of the bowls and once Laris had taken it, sat down next to him. After watching the other male stare at his food for several minutes, the blond elf gently nudged him in the side with his elbow.

“Eat my friend, it was my turn to make dinner, so I promise it is edible.” Zevran said, just as the mage’s stomach let off a loud growl. He observed as the other male huffed in annoyance but finally tucked into his food. The blond elf sat silently while Laris ate two bowls, before giving the third to his dog. The rogue had just opened his mouth to start a conversation, when a branch broke in the woods behind them.

Jumping to his feet, Zevran spun toward the trees, one dagger already in his left hand, his right resting on the hilt of the other. For several tense moments, the blond elf searched the shadows beneath the trees, he briefly thought he saw a figure in the shadows near them, but when nothing else moved decided it must be a trick of the light. Or it could be...

“Perhaps it was an animal? I do not feel any darkspawn nearby.” Laris said softly, and Zevran could feel his hair stand on end from the lightening dancing around the other elf’s hand.

“Si, perhaps.” Zevran said, taking his right hand off his dagger, but keeping the other unsheathed. Sitting down once more, the rogue put his back to the lake so that he could keep a partial eye on the tree line while they talked. They sat in silence for several minutes, until Laris sighed, and allowed the last of the power to fade from his hand and once more looked sadly out over the lake.

“They say that sharing burdens can make them lighter. Do you wish to talk, my friend? I am more than willing to listen,” Zevran asked gently. He watched the mage’s eyes turn toward him, searching for something in the other’s face. Just when the rogue was going to ask if the other male wanted to be alone, the brown-haired elf gave a deep sigh and placed his head into his hands.

“Do you wish to know one of my duties when I still lived in the circle?” Laris asked, twisting his head just enough to see the assassin nod.

“I was responsible for helping the new little children settle into life at the tower. They might have been afraid at first, but they still had such an innocence and a joy for life, that I couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with them. Many of them had never seen an elf before, so their fascination with me often helped them calm down that much faster. They could be so cute.”

Zevran gave a small smile at the lighter tone of Laris’ voice, but it dropped from his face when the mage looked up and the rogue could see the pain in his silver grey eyes.

“So can you imagine how hard it was for me, when I was suddenly told that I had to decide the fate of such a child. All because everyone else was too fucking scared to do so!” Laris shouted, jumping to his feet and beginning to pace in agitation. “A fucking blood ritual or the death of a child, those were the choices they gave me! I…I even thought about going to the circle, seeing if they might know of a better way, but the thought of what that damn demon might do in the time it took us to get help. The thought that it might finish what we stopped the night before…I just couldn’t…” Laris trailed off, he stopped pacing and sat down heavily gently shaking his head. “Then to have Alistair question and berate me, just when we’ve returned to camp, before I’ve even had a chance to come to terms with what I had to do. It’s like he forgot that he’s the one that made me the leader of our little group. I didn’t ask to be the one that had to make all of these fucking decisions!” Laris yelled, lifting his hands to grip his hair tightly.

Wanting to give Laris some form of comfort, Zevran placed his hand on the other’s knee and gently squeezed it. For several minutes, the rogue could feel the other’s body tremble beneath his hand, before Laris took several deep breaths, released his hair and placed his hand over the assassin’s giving it a grateful squeeze back.

“Alistair doesn’t understand, in fact I’m not sure any of you truly understood how much was going against that boy. Even if the ritual had worked, what was keeping another demon from trying to take over a weakened child?” Laris asked, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose, then fixed his intense silver grey eyes on the other elf. “Make no mistake, Zev, all the death from the village, the powerful emotions, the blood from the ritual, it would be a miracle if it hadn’t attracted other demons to the area. We could have been fighting demon after demon, for who knows how long, to keep the boy safe. If on the off chance the ritual had worked, the Tower…it…” Zevran felt a shutter race through the mage as a hunted look crossed the other’s face. “His life would have been little better than a nightmare. His father’s position would have protected him from anything physical, but the worst of the Templars have perfected being able to cut down a mage verbally. Once the Templars found out that he had been possessed, they would have never allowed him any true privacy or freedom. I can promise you that they would never have given him his harrowing.”

“What is a harrowing?” Zevran asked. Laris stared in confusion for a moment, before he gave a huff of air and shook his head at his own forgetfulness.

“I forget sometimes that not everyone knows how a circle is run. To become a full mage of a circle, you have to pass your harrowing. The Templars come for you in the dead of night, your taken to a large room and made to use lyrium to enter the Fade while awake. Once in the Fade, you have to find and defeat a demon that has been called to tempt you. Those that succeed are made full members of the circle, the ones that don’t…” Zevran felt Laris grip his hand tighter and he tighten his own hold on the mage’s knee. “Those mages are taken by the demon, they become abominations and are immediately killed by the Templars, never to be mentioned again. Tell me, Zev, do you honestly think that they would risk that with a mage that had already been possessed once?” Laris asked, seeking out his friend’s eyes, but the other elf could only shake his head.

“I do not know, mi amigo. My knowledge of the circle and its ways is limited to rumors, and what tidbits I have gained from you, but I do believe you made the best decision you could with the time and choices offered. You are smart, reliable and handsome, though I think the boy’s death is not the only thing weighing on your mind,” Zevran said gently. He was proven right when Laris looked away, his body tensing even more under the assassin’s hand. “Come now, tell me what troubles you. You have heard many of my stories, do you truly believe I would judge you? I can even help, yes?”

Zevran turned his hand and gripped the mage’s tightly, rubbing his thumb along the other’s knuckles. He watched the other male turn back, his eyes once more searching the rogue’s face, than he looked down at the ground and for several minutes the blond elf thought the silver-eyed male would remain silent.

“Jowan.” Laris said faintly, and Zevran stilled in confusion.

“The blood mag…”

“Don’t call him that!” Laris shouted, his head whipping up to pin the rogue with a piercing glare. The blond jerked in surprise, but nodded his head wildly in agreement, hoping to quickly calm the other male. Seeing the hint of fear in Zevran’s eyes, Laris turned his head away in shame, and tried to pull his hand free, but the rogue merely held on tighter.

“My apologies, mi querido, it was a poor choice of words.” Zevran said, only to see the other elf shake his head.

“No, you are right, but I still can’t see him that way.” Laris said, gazing out over the lake. “He was my friend, my first friend, my best friend, a brother to me in all but blood. I don’t remember where I came from, but I remember that he took me under his wing, made me feel at home, helped me feel safe and I… I killed him. I never thought when I went to the First Enchanter for help, when I decided that I would prove them all wrong about him, that this would be the outcome.” The mage whispered the last part, his hand nearly crushing the rogue’s. “I didn’t do it for the reason they think I did. I didn’t do it because he was a fucking blood mage, or because he poisoned the Arl or anything like that. I did it to spare him.”

“Spare him?” Zevran asked, curiosity in his voice.

“Yes, spare him. Think about it, Zev. There are only two things that could have happened to him in the end; one, The Arl is cured, wakes up, and decides to take Jowan’s punishment into his own hands. You saw what his wife did to him. Do you think her husband would have had anymore mercy, or that Jowan’s days would have been filled with pure torture? The second thing that could have happened was that the Arl might have actually turned him over to the Circle, that path would have led to only one thing, Tranquility. Jowan would have been cut off from his magic, dreams, emotions, he would no longer been the friend I once knew. All that would be left is an empty husk that answered to his name. I couldn’t allow it, Zev, not to my friend, not to my brother! Do you want to know what the worst part was? To find out that I was the one that pushed him to even try blood magic.” Not able to take the loathing in Laris’ voice, Zevran rose to his knees and releasing the mage’s hand, cupped the other male’s cheek to turn him to meet his eyes.

“You pushed no one, Laris. You never told him to turn to blood magic, you certainly never told him to use it against anyone or to poison the Earl. You did the best you were able with the circumstances you were given.” Zevran said, willing the silver eyed elf to believe him.

“Did I? Maybe if I had helped him more, worked with him more, maybe than he would still be here. Why did I not see how hard of a time he was having?!” Laris shouted.

“Do you think yourself the Maker, mi querido!” Zevran yelled, startling Laris into silence. “You cannot read minds, so unless someone is willing to share, there will be some things you can not know. You are powerful, kind, merciful and very handsome, but even you have limits. So mourn, mi dulce. Mourn, I will not leave you.” Zevran said gently and he saw the other elf’s face slowly crumble, before Laris lunged forward, and wrapped his arms around the blond rogue, while he buried his face in Zevran’s neck.

Feeling the first drops of wetness on his skin, the rogue placed his arms around Laris, and hugged the mage close to his chest as the other began to sob quietly. They stayed that way for a long time, long enough for Zevran’s knees to go numb. When Laris finally pulled away, his face was red with embarrassment, and he tried to clean all traces of tears from his face.

“I am sorry, Zevran,” Laris said, his voice low and rough from his sobbing

“Do not be sorry, Mi dulce. I understand, more than you can possibly know.” Zevran said, his own failures and mistakes passing through his mind. Seeing that mage was still red faced, the rogue gathered the bowls and stood up. “I will return to camp and tell the others you are fine. Take the time you need, but do not stay out too late.”

The grateful look Laris gave Zevran, made something warm grow in his chest, and not wanting to look to closely at the emotion, Zevran walked toward the woods. He paused just as he entered the tree line, having dropped a bowl and hoped that Laris would not hear what he was about to say.

“I would head back to camp, were I you. If Laris realizes that you were spying on him this whole time, it will not go well for you.” Zevran warned the hidden Alistair, then he picked up the bowl and continued on his way. When he was out of sight and hearing range of the other elf, Alistair joined his side, and at least had the decency to look ashamed at being caught.

“I would not let him know what you did, my friend. He has been watched his whole life by others, I don’t think he would be pleased to know you have joined that list of people. Perhaps you can think over what you heard, yes?” Zevran asked, a warning in his voice, which quickly got a nod of agreement from the warrior, and they continued on to camp in silence.

Several hours later, Laris returned to camp and was quickly pulled aside by Alistair who apologized for attacking him, especially when Alistair had done nothing to help with such a difficult decision. The warrior also promised to try and take some of the burden off Laris’ shoulders next time, instead of leaving him to figure everything out on his own. After another moment of fidgeting, Alistair quietly told the mage that if he ever need to talk about anything, the warrior would be happy to listen. Seeing the relieved smile spread across Laris’ face, the others knew that things would soon be back to normal.

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“Laris, now that we’re back in camp we need to speak about what happened in Redcliffe.”

Laris sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to face his fellow Grey warden. He had known that this conversation was going to happen sooner or later, Alistair had been much too quiet during the aftermath of Redcliffe, but the mage had hoped for some time to come to terms with his own actions.

“You were there when it happened, Alistair. You saw exactly the same thing that I did.” Laris said, trying to keep the exhaustion and resentment from his voice.

“I know; I’ve been thinking about it, you killed Conner! You killed that precious little boy. How could you do that?!” Alistair asked, anger in his voice and hostility in his eyes. Laris saw Zevran moving forward, and shook his head slightly to get him to stop.

“Do you honestly think I took enjoyment from it?! I can promise you, that was the last thing I would have felt, Alistair. What would you have had me do?” He said, annoyance and hurt beginning to creep into his tone.

“You could have let Lady Isolde sacrifice herself. It was her fault this all happened in the first place, wasn’t it? Blood ritual or not, if one of them had to die it should have been her! This was the Arl’s son we’re talking about here! What do you think he’ll say when we revive him?” Alistair asked, glaring and waving his hands around wildly.

“I do not know, Alistair! I weighed the choices given to me and tried to make the best decision possible. I am sure though the Arl will recognize that and will see there were larger things at stake.” Laris said, pulling on all of his control to keep his face and voice void of the emotions his could feel building in his chest. Feeling the stares of their companions was not helping his slowly eroding restraint.

“I just don’t know how you could do it! How you could make that decision! I owed the Arl more than this.” Alistair said, his hands falling to form fists at his sides. It took every bit of self-control Laris had not to lash out at the warrior and remind him that HE was the one who decided the mage should lead. Which meant time and again Laris was the one that had to make the tough decisions. The elf certainly knew no one else was willing to make them. Lucky Alistair’s last comment was enough to distract the mage from his ever darkening thoughts.

“You…Owe…the Arl…” Laris said, crossing his arms over his chest and finally allowing the hurt to show. “I think I understand now, it’s not about me and what I’ve done. Your entire rant is about him and you, it was never about me! Not truly.”

“No!” Alistair shouted, before looking away guiltily. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. I guess it’s all said and done anyway. It’ll have to be enough.” Looking back Alistair finally noticed the hurt in Laris’ eyes, and felt shame fill him as he looked away again. “I know that you did what you had too. It’s just all this death. It doesn’t matter, lets just stop there before I do more than shove my foot into my mouth.”

Laris watched his fellow warden for a moment and when the other man continued to avoid his eyes, the mage turned, whistled for Joseph and walked out of camp. Alistair’s head snapped around and he stared after the elf and his dog, before moving to follow him, but stopped when Morrigan stood in his way.

“Perhaps you should leave the Warden alone with his thought for now. While you brooded and mopped in Redcliffe, Laris did actual work, with little time to himself. Than instead of finally allowing him a moment, you attack him the second we enter camp. Twas not very sporting of you.” She said, a look of disdain on her face.

“I have to agree with her, Alistair. You were out of line, and while you should apologize, I think the best thing you can do right now is to allow him some space.” The strawberry blond man turned to Leliana in surprise, finally noticed the looks the others were giving him, he nodded his head and went to sit down by the fire.

****************************************************

Zevran slowly and carefully made his way through the woods, three bowls of food balanced in his arms. Normally Alistair would be the one to bring Laris his food, but because of their argument everyone felt it was best if someone else did it. It was a surprise, when he had been nominated to go. The rogue had been sure that the others were still wary of him, but Leliana had explained that Zevran was the second most talked to person in their group. This fact alone made them feel that his presence would be more tolerated than anyone else. Unable to deny that they could be right Zevran had finished his food quickly and been on his way.

Realizing that he was approaching the area where Laris was, something the blond elf knew after following him from camp, Zevran purposely stepped on several twigs so that the mage would not attack him. As the rogue cleared the last line to trees, he found the other elf watching him from the edge of the lake, the same place he had been sitting all evening. Raising the bowls slightly, to explain his presence, Zevran breathed a small sigh when the mage nodded once and patted the ground next to him. Walking over, the assassin held out one of the bowls and once Laris had taken it, sat down next to him. After watching the other male stare at his food for several minutes, the blond elf gently nudged him in the side with his elbow.

“Eat my friend, it was my turn to make dinner, so I promise it is edible.” Zevran said, just as the mage’s stomach let off a loud growl. He observed as the other male huffed in annoyance but finally tucked into his food. The blond elf sat silently while Laris ate two bowls, before giving the third to his dog. The rogue had just opened his mouth to start a conversation, when a branch broke in the woods behind them.

Jumping to his feet, Zevran spun toward the trees, one dagger already in his left hand, his right resting on the hilt of the other. For several tense moments, the blond elf searched the shadows beneath the trees, he briefly thought he saw a figure in the shadows near them, but when nothing else moved decided it must be a trick of the light. Or it could be...

“Perhaps it was an animal? I do not feel any darkspawn nearby.” Laris said softly, and Zevran could feel his hair stand on end from the lightening dancing around the other elf’s hand.

“Si, perhaps.” Zevran said, taking his right hand off his dagger, but keeping the other unsheathed. Sitting down once more, the rogue put his back to the lake so that he could keep a partial eye on the tree line while they talked. They sat in silence for several minutes, until Laris sighed, and allowed the last of the power to fade from his hand and once more looked sadly out over the lake.

“They say that sharing burdens can make them lighter. Do you wish to talk, my friend? I am more than willing to listen,” Zevran asked gently. He watched the mage’s eyes turn toward him, searching for something in the other’s face. Just when the rogue was going to ask if the other male wanted to be alone, the brown-haired elf gave a deep sigh and placed his head into his hands.

“Do you wish to know one of my duties when I still lived in the circle?” Laris asked, twisting his head just enough to see the assassin nod.

“I was responsible for helping the new little children settle into life at the tower. They might have been afraid at first, but they still had such an innocence and a joy for life, that I couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with them. Many of them had never seen an elf before, so their fascination with me often helped them calm down that much faster. They could be so cute.”

Zevran gave a small smile at the lighter tone of Laris’ voice, but it dropped from his face when the mage looked up and the rogue could see the pain in his silver grey eyes.

“So can you imagine how hard it was for me, when I was suddenly told that I had to decide the fate of such a child. All because everyone else was too fucking scared to do so!” Laris shouted, jumping to his feet and beginning to pace in agitation. “A fucking blood ritual or the death of a child, those were the choices they gave me! I…I even thought about going to the circle, seeing if they might know of a better way, but the thought of what that damn demon might do in the time it took us to get help. The thought that it might finish what we stopped the night before…I just couldn’t…” Laris trailed off, he stopped pacing and sat down heavily gently shaking his head. “Then to have Alistair question and berate me, just when we’ve returned to camp, before I’ve even had a chance to come to terms with what I had to do. It’s like he forgot that he’s the one that made me the leader of our little group. I didn’t ask to be the one that had to make all of these fucking decisions!” Laris yelled, lifting his hands to grip his hair tightly.

Wanting to give Laris some form of comfort, Zevran placed his hand on the other’s knee and gently squeezed it. For several minutes, the rogue could feel the other’s body tremble beneath his hand, before Laris took several deep breaths, released his hair and placed his hand over the assassin’s giving it a grateful squeeze back.

“Alistair doesn’t understand, in fact I’m not sure any of you truly understood how much was going against that boy. Even if the ritual had worked, what was keeping another demon from trying to take over a weakened child?” Laris asked, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose, then fixed his intense silver grey eyes on the other elf. “Make no mistake, Zev, all the death from the village, the powerful emotions, the blood from the ritual, it would be a miracle if it hadn’t attracted other demons to the area. We could have been fighting demon after demon, for who knows how long, to keep the boy safe. If on the off chance the ritual had worked, the Tower…it…” Zevran felt a shutter race through the mage as a hunted look crossed the other’s face. “His life would have been little better than a nightmare. His father’s position would have protected him from anything physical, but the worst of the Templars have perfected being able to cut down a mage verbally. Once the Templars found out that he had been possessed, they would have never allowed him any true privacy or freedom. I can promise you that they would never have given him his harrowing.”

“What is a harrowing?” Zevran asked. Laris stared in confusion for a moment, before he gave a huff of air and shook his head at his own forgetfulness.

“I forget sometimes that not everyone knows how a circle is run. To become a full mage of a circle, you have to pass your harrowing. The Templars come for you in the dead of night, your taken to a large room and made to use lyrium to enter the Fade while awake. Once in the Fade, you have to find and defeat a demon that has been called to tempt you. Those that succeed are made full members of the circle, the ones that don’t…” Zevran felt Laris grip his hand tighter and he tighten his own hold on the mage’s knee. “Those mages are taken by the demon, they become abominations and are immediately killed by the Templars, never to be mentioned again. Tell me, Zev, do you honestly think that they would risk that with a mage that had already been possessed once?” Laris asked, seeking out his friend’s eyes, but the other elf could only shake his head.

“I do not know, mi amigo. My knowledge of the circle and its ways is limited to rumors, and what tidbits I have gained from you, but I do believe you made the best decision you could with the time and choices offered. You are smart, reliable and handsome, though I think the boy’s death is not the only thing weighing on your mind,” Zevran said gently. He was proven right when Laris looked away, his body tensing even more under the assassin’s hand. “Come now, tell me what troubles you. You have heard many of my stories, do you truly believe I would judge you? I can even help, yes?”

Zevran turned his hand and gripped the mage’s tightly, rubbing his thumb along the other’s knuckles. He watched the other male turn back, his eyes once more searching the rogue’s face, than he looked down at the ground and for several minutes the blond elf thought the silver-eyed male would remain silent.

“Jowan.” Laris said faintly, and Zevran stilled in confusion.

“The blood mag…”

“Don’t call him that!” Laris shouted, his head whipping up to pin the rogue with a piercing glare. The blond jerked in surprise, but nodded his head wildly in agreement, hoping to quickly calm the other male. Seeing the hint of fear in Zevran’s eyes, Laris turned his head away in shame, and tried to pull his hand free, but the rogue merely held on tighter.

“My apologies, mi querido, it was a poor choice of words.” Zevran said, only to see the other elf shake his head.

“No, you are right, but I still can’t see him that way.” Laris said, gazing out over the lake. “He was my friend, my first friend, my best friend, a brother to me in all but blood. I don’t remember where I came from, but I remember that he took me under his wing, made me feel at home, helped me feel safe and I… I killed him. I never thought when I went to the First Enchanter for help, when I decided that I would prove them all wrong about him, that this would be the outcome.” The mage whispered the last part, his hand nearly crushing the rogue’s. “I didn’t do it for the reason they think I did. I didn’t do it because he was a fucking blood mage, or because he poisoned the Arl or anything like that. I did it to spare him.”

“Spare him?” Zevran asked, curiosity in his voice.

“Yes, spare him. Think about it, Zev. There are only two things that could have happened to him in the end; one, The Arl is cured, wakes up, and decides to take Jowan’s punishment into his own hands. You saw what his wife did to him. Do you think her husband would have had anymore mercy, or that Jowan’s days would have been filled with pure torture? The second thing that could have happened was that the Arl might have actually turned him over to the Circle, that path would have led to only one thing, Tranquility. Jowan would have been cut off from his magic, dreams, emotions, he would no longer been the friend I once knew. All that would be left is an empty husk that answered to his name. I couldn’t allow it, Zev, not to my friend, not to my brother! Do you want to know what the worst part was? To find out that I was the one that pushed him to even try blood magic.” Not able to take the loathing in Laris’ voice, Zevran rose to his knees and releasing the mage’s hand, cupped the other male’s cheek to turn him to meet his eyes.

“You pushed no one, Laris. You never told him to turn to blood magic, you certainly never told him to use it against anyone or to poison the Earl. You did the best you were able with the circumstances you were given.” Zevran said, willing the silver eyed elf to believe him.

“Did I? Maybe if I had helped him more, worked with him more, maybe than he would still be here. Why did I not see how hard of a time he was having?!” Laris shouted.

“Do you think yourself the Maker, mi querido!” Zevran yelled, startling Laris into silence. “You cannot read minds, so unless someone is willing to share, there will be some things you can not know. You are powerful, kind, merciful and very handsome, but even you have limits. So mourn, mi dulce. Mourn, I will not leave you.” Zevran said gently and he saw the other elf’s face slowly crumble, before Laris lunged forward, and wrapped his arms around the blond rogue, while he buried his face in Zevran’s neck.

Feeling the first drops of wetness on his skin, the rogue placed his arms around Laris, and hugged the mage close to his chest as the other began to sob quietly. They stayed that way for a long time, long enough for Zevran’s knees to go numb. When Laris finally pulled away, his face was red with embarrassment, and he tried to clean all traces of tears from his face.

“I am sorry, Zevran,” Laris said, his voice low and rough from his sobbing

“Do not be sorry, Mi dulce. I understand, more than you can possibly know.” Zevran said, his own failures and mistakes passing through his mind. Seeing that mage was still red faced, the rogue gathered the bowls and stood up. “I will return to camp and tell the others you are fine. Take the time you need, but do not stay out too late.”

The grateful look Laris gave Zevran, made something warm grow in his chest, and not wanting to look to closely at the emotion, Zevran walked toward the woods. He paused just as he entered the tree line, having dropped a bowl and hoped that Laris would not hear what he was about to say.

“I would head back to camp, were I you. If Laris realizes that you were spying on him this whole time, it will not go well for you.” Zevran warned the hidden Alistair, then he picked up the bowl and continued on his way. When he was out of sight and hearing range of the other elf, Alistair joined his side, and at least had the decency to look ashamed at being caught.

“I would not let him know what you did, my friend. He has been watched his whole life by others, I don’t think he would be pleased to know you have joined that list of people. Perhaps you can think over what you heard, yes?” Zevran asked, a warning in his voice, which quickly got a nod of agreement from the warrior, and they continued on to camp in silence.

Several hours later, Laris returned to camp and was quickly pulled aside by Alistair who apologized for attacking him, especially when Alistair had done nothing to help with such a difficult decision. The warrior also promised to try and take some of the burden off Laris’ shoulders next time, instead of leaving him to figure everything out on his own. After another moment of fidgeting, Alistair quietly told the mage that if he ever need to talk about anything, the warrior would be happy to listen. Seeing the relieved smile spread across Laris’ face, the others knew that things would soon be back to normal.