Dragon Age One Shots

Zevran's Arrow

Warden: Here.

Zevran: Something for me? And it's not even Satinalia... You're gifting me an arrow? Perhaps you didn't notice, dear Warden, but bows and the bits that shoot out of them are not my forte.

Warden: I'm well aware of what your forte entails.

Warden: This is the arrow I very nearly embedded into your heart.

Zevran: I see you're in a morbid mood tonight.

Warden: You earned the right to hold it. But know that I have plenty of others should you try to betray us. *turns to walk away back to camp*

Zevran: Any chance you'd wish to explore my other fortes, preferably without pants?

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*Zevran's hunched over, putting a knife to the arrow in his lap. The scraping sounds draw the Warden near.*

Warden: What are you doing?

Zevran: If I am tasked to carry this arrow around through swamps and forests, I shall not risk its loss.

Warden *peers closer*: You still have that after all these weeks?

Zevran: A man of his honor never trades away a gift.

Warden: A man of honor? Is that what you call yourself?

Zevran: My dear Warden, I am the most honorable assassin you shall ever meet.

Warden: If it's all the same, I hope I don't meet anymore.

Zevran: Because I am more than enough for one person to handle. Though, sometimes two are required if we have the entire night.

*Warden sighs and turns away.*

________________________

Warden: I have to know what you put on that thing.

Zevran *smiles wide.*

Warden: I mean the arrow, obviously, not whatever your filthy mind conjured up.

Zevran: Your wish is my command, dear Warden.

*turns over arrow to reveal he chiseled into the head 'Deliver to Zevran's Heart.'*

Warden *taken aback*: Why would you carve that? Do you want to die?

Zevran: Death follows us around every corner. It is a wonder we can even make it to the bush-lavatories without someone succumbing to its skeletal hand.

Warden: Well I...I don't want you to die.

Zevran: I know.

Warden: You do?

Zevran: Of course, you gave me your arrow.

________________________

Zevran: I've thought about it and, I think, you should take this back.

Warden *picks up the old arrow out of his fingers*: Why?

Zevran: Because you don't need to use it as a threat any longer. You've already pierced clean through my heart.

Warden: Zev, I...

Zevran: Don't worry, *he smiles, tugging the Warden over for a kiss* it only hurts when I breathe.

________________________

*The archdemon lies dead, Zevran struggling to rise to his feet. He runs to the Warden's side, but there is no movement.*

Zevran: I knew... *he falls to his knees, tears barely held at bay* The hero always dies.

*His fingers slide over the Warden's cold hand. Something is clutched tight to the Warden's chest*

*Zevran plucks at the limp hand until a single, solitary arrow rolls from the Warden's peaceful grip*

*Picking up the last arrow from the hero, his heart stops as he reads his name carved by his own hand upon the arrowhead.*

'Deliver to Zevran's Heart'

*With a shuddering breath, he turns the arrow over, and his heart thumps from its grave*

*Carved with less grace were the words 'Fired by' and the Warden's name*

Zevran: You fool. *the tears nearly blind him as he breaks the head off the arrow's shaft* You knew the whole time, didn't you? Always the damn hero...to the bitter end.

________________________

He defies death, over and over Zevran strikes out into the world fighting battles of his own choosing.

Hung around his neck is an engraved arrowhead – the only thing in thedas to ever cut through his heart twice.