fanfic: A Fish Out of Water

[bellaknoti]

An AU to Wings of the Storm Crow

Title: Broken Wings (Chapter Twenty-Two)
Rating: AO
Pairing: Zev/Lily
Summary: Aphrodite preserve me. What have I done?


scarylady is very awesome, and fixes all the injustices and horrible liberties I take with the language without even meaning to.


Author Note: I’m truly sorry. I meant for there to be smut at the top of this chapter, and it just didn’t go that way. In this story, nothing is ever quite what it seems, and the characters do things that no one quite expected, especially when Zevguy started reading over my shoulder and making uncomfortably insightful commentary about things that came before. He’s certain he knows where Zevran has been this whole time, and... he’s right. So... hold on to your hats. Things with the timeline get a little confusing, but I promise it all meshes up. Once I’ve got everything written into the narrative, I can release the notes I’ve got, but until then... Gods, just try not to lynch me, ‘kay? I’m telling the story as it unfolds. I love you guys. Hang in there... this one’s a rough ride.





I’m exhausted by the time we stand up, ready to leave Alistair’s office. “Gods, I can’t wait to get out of this corset and just lay down for a while.” I groan, stretching my arms over my head, but it doesn’t do much for the ache in my ribs and I drop them again with a huff and a sigh. Rubbing my hands together, I stick them under my arms. The night’s a bit chill... or maybe I’m just adapting to the climate. Anyway, it just means all the better to make with the cuddlings.

Leliana smiles. “Hmmm... I’d like a bit of something to eat and another glass of wine, myself. I think I’ve earned it, no?” Her eyes sparkle with merriment as I look at her in surprise.

“You didn’t eat?” I ask, incredulous. There was a metric fuck-ton of food there!

She just shakes her head. “Oh no, servants don’t eat such fare. I was kept far too busy in the kitchen during the meal to even think about eating, anyway.” She laughs at my horrified expression and waves a hand. “I did not miss anything, I promise you. I have had similar meals before, though it certainly seemed like you were enjoying yourself,” she teases, and I blush, smiling.

“It’s true. I’ve never eaten so well in my life. It was truly awesome.” She gives me a knowing smile. I may not have a Warden’s stomach, but I’m no slouch, and that’s kinda known around here. “See you tomorrow, Lels,” I say, as she turns and slips through the door with a flutter of fingers in farewell. Ponka lifts his head, looking at us as we pass through it ourselves, falling in step beside Zev and me.

“Lily,” Alistair says, and we pause as I look over my shoulder at him, silhouetted in the doorway, the lamplight shining around his broad-shouldered figure. “Don’t forget to tell him what happened last night,” he says, then turns away, shutting the door.

I swallow as Zev looks at me sharply, eyes narrowed in speculation, and I shake my head. I don’t like that look at all. “Let’s get up to our room,” I murmur, and he nods. Damn you, Alistair. I wanted to do something else first. I sigh in irritation, bare feet pattering on the stone as I hustle upstairs, not wanting to drag this out any longer than I have to. All I can think about are his hands, oh gods, and the way he purrs in my ear, the heat of his skin and the way his stomach flexes against mine. I need him, so badly. After all the fear and uncertainty of the last couple of days, all I want is to lose myself in his arms.

I grab the candle from the sconce beside the door and fling it open, using it to light a couple of the lamps before returning it to its place and shutting the door behind me. When I turn around, Zev is sitting on his side of the bed, pulling a couple of long strands of coppery-blond hair through his fingers, and I freeze.

“Cara...” he says slowly, his voice frighteningly flat. He makes the endearment sound like a threat, and this immediately trips my panic button. “Perhaps you could begin by explaining to me exactly how it is that Anders came to be sleeping in our bed.”

This is not how I wanted this conversation to start. He’s got it by the wrong end. I take a deep breath as I see his brows furrow and his lower lip tighten, fingers flicking the strands away. “Uh. Well, three nights ago--”

“No, I do not wish to know about three nights ago. I was here three nights ago. I wish to know about last night, when I was not here.” he says, voice dangerously low, and I’ve never seen this side of him before. He’s never looked at me like this, never spoken to me this way. The force of his sudden jealousy strikes me straight through the heart, leaving me momentarily speechless at the worst possible time, and he takes this for an admission of some sort, becoming even colder. Oh gods, what is happening to us? Being involved with the Crows is going to have him jumping at shadows, even between us? “Did he sleep here?” he demands.

Oh gods, this is spiralling out of control far too quickly. Truth. Just tell the truth, right? I haven’t done anything wrong, here. “Yes, but you don’t--”

He hisses, cutting me off as he is suddenly on his feet, and I take an involuntary step back, heart in my throat. What the fuck is going on? “And you, Lily mia,” he says, his voice a low purr, fire in his eyes hot enough to scald me with that look alone. “Where did you sleep? Here?” he asks, graceful hand gesturing to the bed as he comes closer, voice silk-covered steel, and I can feel myself going pale.

Oh gods, I’ve never been afraid of him before. I don’t want this. This is not okay. I can feel tears gathering in my eyes as I back away from him again and fetch up against the wall.

“Yes, but--” I start, and he winces, interrupting again, the look of barely controlled anger and pain on his face killing a piece of my soul as the tears fall out of my eyes and tumble down my cheeks.

“Oh, yes, cara, please do explain. This, I very much wish to hear.” His voice, oh gods, his voice is cold as ice, and I swallow as he steps back from me, wary now, not my Zev at all.

Oh gods. Aphrodite, help me! “It started with the nightmares,” I say quickly, licking my lips, and he cocks his head a bit, looking at me from the sides of his eyes. “I had one, a bad one, right before you left - you remember, right? I ran into the wall?” He nods, still wary, and I swallow again, taking another breath. And then I talk fast.

“Well-- I should have talked to you about it then, but I didn’t know it was different. I mean, different from my usual nightmares. I was dreaming about him, my ex. I dreamed that I never left, that he took me from the ocean, that he had me again, was hurting me, that he shut me up and imprisoned me. I dreamed that this life, everything I hold here, was just fantasy, just smoke and mirrors. He had me convinced I was insane, that you were not real, that I was completely unhinged, whispering the name of a dream lover, trying to escape the reality of a life that was too cold, too painful to bear.” I cover my mouth with both hands, trembling, the tears flowing freely, because it was so real. So close to the truth that it scarred me.

“Every night it was worse. I would wake here, and wonder if I was going mad. I tried to function, I did as you asked, I sparred and I read books, I ate and I told Blight stories to the Wardens. And then I would sleep, and I would be there, aching again with all the things that Anders healed,” I say, touching my jaw, “Barely able to walk, trying to find a way to escape my prison, helpless and longing for you, and thinking myself absolutely crazy. I couldn’t tell, yesterday. I didn’t know what was real, I really didn’t. I wanted it to be here, I wanted it to be us, but I was so scared--” I choke on it, on the admission that I thought this was all a lie, for a time.

“It seemed so real, made too much sense, for the world that I come from. So I went to Anders, and I asked him to give me some herbs to help me sleep, because I wanted this to be real. I wanted no more dreams. I thought, if Anders’ tonic worked, then that would prove it, then I would know. I just wanted to sleep,” I repeat helplessly, trying to control my tears, and only having minimal success. “But then I was there again... for days, I thought. And I believed. He kept h-hurting me. And he kept saying, ‘you just need to trust me, you just need to let me in, I can help you, give you anything you want, you just have to let me in, tell me you want to be with me, that you want to stay’, and I wouldn’t-- I c-couldn’t...” My mouth twists as I reach toward him, but he doesn’t come nearer, and I have to let my hand drop. “...Because of you... I only wanted you. Even if I had to live with the idea that you weren’t real... I didn’t want anyone else. I don’t. I couldn’t.” I swallow, wiping my face on my sleeve, shaking my head.

“You were there when we saved Connor, you know how it works. My ex - Tommy - he was a pride demon. Not then; I mean, in these dreams. It was a pride demon, feeding off me. Enzo sewed some kind of glyph to our blankets, a beacon. Anders drank so much lyrium it made him sick, and then he came into the Fade after me and killed the demon, and brought me back. And I was scared-- I was scared because you. weren’t. here. and I didn’t want to go back to sleep, but I had to, and there was no one else--” I swallow again, the tears choking me off, hardly able to continue, my voice a rasp. “No one else who could save me if something happened again. So he stayed. Yes. He was here, and so was I.”

His brows draw together as he pauses, assimilating all this information rapidly, then he licks his lips. “So... He brought you back, yes. This, I understand... But... Why was he in our bed? This - this is what you still have not explained.” His voice has lost none of its dangerous edge, and I realize I’m still on thin ice.

I try to keep my voice level, no-nonsense. I need him to hear me, to believe me. I just want it to stop. I just want to go to bed. Oh gods, please stop looking at me like that. “Uh... well, it was the middle of the night, we were both exhausted, and he’d drunk a shitload of lyrium. I was falling apart, he looked like he was about to keel over, and then he still thought it would be better to try and sleep sitting up against the wall.” I shrug, awkwardly. “I didn’t see the point in making him have a lousy time trying to sleep when he’d put out every ounce of strength he had just to save my ass, so I told him to lay down.” I swallow, pleading with him. “The bed’s big, Zev. There was plenty of room.”

“Ah, I am not a mage, alas. You must explain this to me... So... he put out to save your life? Is that how demons are fought? With his mighty staff?” he asks, so blithe, so cold.

Oh, oh that’s low, and I can feel my lip curling with indignation, even as it feels like my heart has just been hit by a hammer. Sharp as shattered glass. “D-Don’t you twist my words! You want to believe I’ve been unfaithful, then fine! Why don’t you go fucking ask Anders what happened last night! Make him show you the glyph!”

Zev hovers there for a moment, looking at me, and oh, oh gods, I do not know this man at all, and then he is gone, a flash of movement through the door, leaving it standing open.

I lose a breath, feeling like I’ve just been punched in the stomach, and sag against the wall. I don’t understand how everything went so wrong, so quickly. Looking at the bed now just makes me sick. Coming to an abrupt decision, I leave the room myself, Ponka falling in beside me as I head down to the kitchens, wiping my cheeks on my sleeve again.

Leliana looks up as I come into the Wardens’ hall, surprise, then concern flickering across her face. There are too many other witnesses here, other Wardens in the middle of eating, so I just turn and flee, but Lels is hot on my heels, and catches me in the hallway. “Lily!” she calls after me, grabbing my arm, and I turn, unable to stop the constant trickle falling from my eyes. I can’t help it. I’ve been gutted. She is shocked, eyes wide and jaw dropped. Immediately, she takes my hand, tugging me along after her at a run, heading straight for her chambers.

Once inside, she turns, closing the door, and Ponka flops down in front of it, watching me with his big doggy eyes full of worry. It’s all I can do to make it to her bed, crumpling and clutching my waist, and then I’m a shameful, sobbing wreck, curling up in a ball.

“Maker’s breath!” she exclaims, alarm in her voice, and comes to me, crawling onto the bed and dragging me into her lap to lay across it. Humming softly, she pulls the pins from my hair, combing her fingers through it soothingly as I make a damp spot on her skirt. Her fingers wander down my back, loosening the laces on my bodice, making it easier to breathe, but this only serves to give me more breath for sobbing. Eventually I cry myself numb, finally laying there quiet, though my body still shakes with the force of how I’m breaking inside. I feel hot, and my stomach aches terribly. I press my hands over it, not wanting to uncurl.

“What has happened? Surely this could only be about Zevran,” she asks quietly, once there’s a space of silence, and I bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut and taking a deep breath.

“He’s so angry. He hardly gave me time to explain, and the way he looked at me... He-- He thinks I had sex with Anders,” I choke out, and she makes a shocked and disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

“What? Why would he think that? You have never given him reason to think you inconstant, have you?” she protests, and I can tell this is a rhetorical question, but I shake my head.

I’m not going to cry again. I’m not. “But Alistair said to me to make sure I told Zev what happened last night, right in front of him, and then he sat down on our bed and found a couple strands of Anders’ hair on the pillow, and--” I can’t say any more. It’s killing me. “How could he think it?” I whisper, agonized, and she rubs my back softly.

“Shhh... most men are jealous beasts, sweetling, and your Zevran is among them. Considering his rivalry with Alistair, and the way that Alistair still looks at you? Oh yes, I can see it, quite well.”

I shudder, shaking my head. “But I explained it-- I told him nothing happened. Why doesn’t he believe me?” I feel like I’m going to vomit.

Scratch that. I am going to vomit. I flail upward out of her lap, looking around wildly. Seeing no container convenient, I dash over to the window, lean out, and barf over the side, into the bushes below, and then moan piteously. My stomach is cramping something fierce, and I realize this has not been just my upset, as I retch again. “Oh shit--” I choke out, my stomach fighting to empty itself, purging whatever poison was slipped to me. Something deadly. He said it would sicken me. “Zev...” I moan, calling for him, wishing for him, it hurts so much.

Lels comes over to me as I hang there exhausted, half out of the window, and runs her hand up and down my back soothingly. “Shhh... poor dear. This will be rough. Here, drink this. It will stop you having empty heaving.” She presses a cup into my hand, and I quickly swallow the bitter liquid, forcing it down before my body has a chance to reject it just on the grounds that it’s in my mouth. After a few moments, I slump to the floor under the window and stare dully across the room.

“Oh gods... Well... Lady Cassia is dead,” I whisper, my voice harsh. “But why? How? When? I didn’t do anything... And Renata seemed so nice...”

Leliana simply shrugs and shakes her head. “Who knows? Perhaps someone wished to pin your death on another. Lothrein, or maybe his wife. She certainly seemed jealous at first. Perhaps they meant to curry favour with her. It is Crow machinations; anything is possible,” she says, rummaging around in one of her bags. She produces a small pot, then comes to sit next to me, pulling the cork out. “Give me your face; it’s all covered in marks now. This will help,” she murmurs, dipping a finger into the cream and smoothing it over my cheek as I turn my head obediently.

I close my eyes, her gentle hands stroking my skin and soothing away the fiery pinpricks. Just as I think my stomach has settled, it flips again, and I scramble upward, hanging out the window, the drink Leliana gave me coming right back up, and I moan once more, this time in despair. “Lels...” I whisper, crumpling back to the floor, as she resumes her seat next to me, pressing another cup into my hands. I just sit, head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. “He doesn’t trust me, Lels... Even after all this... After everything I’ve done... He doesn’t trust me. It’s all been for-- for-- n-nothing--”

Heavy, wracking sobs rock me like my own personal earthquake, no matter how hard I try to hold on to them, as she smooths my hair away from my face, pulling it off my cheeks. I feel like shit. Everything’s gone wrong at once. “Nooo... no, darling, no... He loves you. All will be well, I promise you,” she croons, petting my hair, and I chug the cup of tea or whatever it is, gagging on it.

“It will never end... he’s right... Nothing but blood and death...” I gasp, shaking. “And if Zevran doesn’t trust me by now, he never will.”

“Who’s right?”

“Alistair. He told me I’d never be safe, that it would never end, that they’d come for me forever, because they have to, and I thought-- I thought I was ready for that-- But I can’t-- I can’t do it... not like this... what am I doing this for, if he doesn’t trust me?” I can’t catch my breath. I’ve never felt so hollow, so broken. “Why am I even here?”

These are questions that have no answers, I know, and Leliana has none to give, only the comfort of a friend, her arm around my shoulders. She washes my face and holds my hair, gives me alcohol to rinse out my mouth and rubs the spasms out of my back and shoulders with scented oil that drives away the stench of vomit. She gives me mint leaves and ginger to chew, and hands me cup after cup of the tea that finally settles my stomach. The further into the heaves I get, the sweeter the tea becomes, though she swears she is not changing anything. That means dehydration.

At last, maybe three hours later, I lay quiet against her side, staring and completely hollowed out. I’m feeling claustrophobic. Suddenly, I want to run. I want to be away from here, from everyone. I need time to think. I stumble to my feet, then deliberately stand up straight, squaring my shoulders.

“I think I’m going to go now,” I say, my voice empty and cold as the grave, as I pull my dress back on. “I’m tired.”

Behind me, Leliana has climbed to her feet, and she rests her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll walk with you,” she offers, but I shake my head.

“I need some time alone,” I say, though I cover her fingers with mine, grateful for the gesture, not wanting her to feel rejected. She sighs softly, and squeezes once before her hand slips away. “Thank you,” I say, almost mechanically, but I mean it. “For everything. I couldn’t have made it through this without you.” I turn and give her a hug, much to her surprise, but I can feel her smile against my neck as she hugs me back tightly, like a true sister.

“Of course. You know where to find me, and you can stay here tonight if you feel you need to,” she says, and I nod. Ponka is already on his feet, stepping aside for me as I open the door, and close it quietly behind me.

I look down at him, dropping a hand to his big head, and he grins at me. “You are a very, very good dog,” I tell him, scratching his ear, and he flops his tongue out, his little tail nub wiggling. I bend down to drop a kiss on his forehead. “Go play, find something to eat... I’m going to wander around the hold for a while. I know you could track me, but if Zevran asks you to find me for him, don’t.” He cocks his head, brow furrowing, confused, and I sigh. “Please.” He makes a querulous little noise in the back of his throat, a small protest, and I shake my head. “No. Stay with him if you want, but don’t help him find me. Protect him if he needs it, okay?” He huffs, then dips his head and licks my hand before trotting off down the hallway, but not without a backward glance for me, at the corner. I blow him a kiss and he perks, sticking his chest out proudly as he trots off.

I turn and walk the other direction, aimless.

There is a turning in the corner of one of the hallways, a place where there is a recessed doorway, if you know to look for it, just like the doorway into the Labyrinth, in that movie with David Bowie. I slip through, into the little alcove behind it, where there is a small bench, just big enough for two, and a window that faces the sea. When I first found it, I had thought to bring Zev here, so that we might steal a few moments alone. I don’t believe that will happen now.

I stand in front of the window, staring out at the horizon, feeling nothing. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. I don’t care that I’m a mess. My hair is dishevelled, my bodice half-undone, skirts a rumpled tangle. It just doesn’t matter right now.

Somehow everything I’ve done, all that I’ve given up, it hasn’t been enough. No matter how I tie myself to him, it isn’t enough. No matter how permanently I am marked, it’s not enough. No matter my words, my oath, my skin beneath his hands, it’s not enough. No matter that I have lived for him with every breath. No matter that my heart has beat for him, and only for him, since I drowned, since he forced it to resume its counting of my moments.

At some point, I hear Ponka barking - once in protest, then three times in argument, then nothing. Still, I stand here, unable to move, twisting the ring around and around my finger, watching the stars wheel across the sky, the moon set. As the first pink tendrils of dawn begin to light the horizon, I hear footsteps in the hallway: one set booted, the other four-legged, claws clicking on the floor. Not Zevran, I realize distantly, else I would never have heard him at all.

Of course. I did not forbid Ponka from leading anyone else to me.

“Lily?” Alistair. His voice is soft, tentative, as he reaches out to touch my shoulder, but I do not move, impassive. “Maker, have you been standing here all night?” he asks, coming around in front of me, blocking my view, and I blink, my gaze slowly rising to meet his. He gasps, face crumpling as he looks at me, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks. “Lily, what happened?” he asks, agonized. “Your face...”

“Poison,” I say, my voice flat. He traces the lower curve of my eye sockets with the pads of his thumbs, the most gentle of touches, looking so very sad. I must have two black eyes. “I threw up until there was blood.” I swallow as he grimaces, pained on my behalf. “You were right.”

His brow furrows, and he cocks his head, leaning back from me a bit in surprise. “I was? About what?”

“It’ll never end.”

He takes a breath, hesitating, but there’s nothing to say. It’s true. Instead, he pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me tightly, as though he could protect me by this act alone, and for once, it is a comfort. He is a wall of solid strength, safe, warm, real, and present. He smells like cedar and rain, and I can hear his heart beating beneath my ear as I press my face into his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist so suddenly, so tightly, that he makes a small sound of surprise, his hand sliding into my hair in the next moment, and I close my eyes.

“He’s gone again,” he murmurs, after a long while, and my fingers flex into claws against his back. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t. It hurts too much. “Cesar came for him about an hour before dawn. He left without telling you, so... I came to find you, but... Your bed hadn’t been slept in. Ponka was there; he brought me here. Why haven’t you slept?”

I just shake my head, the pain welling in me like a dark flood, stopping up my throat, dragging a hiccup from me as I grimace, trying to hold onto myself, but I’ve just been through the wringer. He gasps in surprise, then scoots around me, dragging me down into his lap as he sits on the bench and wrapping me up in his arms. I’m too tired, too weak, and too wounded to protest, too alone to try and push him away. I press my face into his shoulder and weep like a child, clinging to his shirt.

“Maker, what happened? I’ve never seen you like this!” he whispers, once I’ve stormed myself out.

“He doesn’t trust me,” I say, my voice husky and ragged from too much crying and sickness. This is what it boils down to. “That he could even entertain the notion that I’d do something like that to him, it proves it, beyond a shadow.”

He pauses. “Er... something like what?”

Oh. “He thinks--” I swallow, then shake my head. “He thinks I slept with Anders,” I whisper.

His fingers spasm on my shoulder, my hip, and I can feel him set his jaw as his neck flexes against my forehead. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before he replies, his voice carefully measured. “He should know better,” he says, shaking his head. “You don’t deserve that. Not from him, not from anyone.” Soft lips press to my forehead, startling two more tears from my eyes, and I have to take a deep breath to keep from crying again. His hand lifts from my shoulder, palm cupping my cheek as his thumb wipes one away, so gentle. It is as he kisses my eyelids that I realize his hand is shaking. “Please... Don’t cry, Lily. I can’t stand it. I would do anything, anything to stop your tears. Tell me what I can do.” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine, and I can feel the length of his nose alongside mine. “Let me be your shield.”

I shake my head slowly, mouth twisting. “I don’t know how,” I whisper brokenly.

His hand slides back into my hair, and I hold my breath, but he lifts his face before he pulls me closer, tucking my head under his chin. “I’d do anything for you, Lily, you know that. Just say the words.”

“I’m so lost...” I whisper, curling against his chest. “This is the worst week of my life.” Haltingly, stuttering, I tell him some of the things I’ve been trying to keep a lid on, about the pride demon and what it did to me, how it was able to get hold of me so strongly, how I was confused and terrified that I was mad, that this was all a dream. “Pile on that all the things I’ve done this week, all the things with the Crows, and now Zevran... So cold, he was... and I thought-- I thought, ‘I don’t know him at all’, the way he looked at me, like I was-- like I was abhorrent... vile...”

His arms tighten around me again, and he shakes his head. “No... no, don’t think like that... You’re amazing, Lily, brilliant. Beautiful.”

I can’t help it. I’m so exhausted, so emotionally wrung out, I just break. I confess, shaking like a leaf as the words come all at once, tumbling from my lips whether I want them to or not. I can’t hold it all in anymore. “I don’t have the heart for this. So much pain and violence and death, so much bloodshed and misery. I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, but I’m not a Warden, I’m not a warrior, I can’t pick locks and I don’t know what I’m doing. Oh gods, I’m so lost...”

He pulls me closer, crushing me to his chest, and I don’t have it in me to protest. I feel safe, and I need that right now. Desperately. “Shhhh... I’m here. I’m here, Lily. I won’t let anything touch you, I swear it.”

My fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, clutching tightly as I press my face into the hollow of his shoulder, and as my eyes slip closed, I lose my grip on consciousness as well, hoping like hell that as long as he’s got hold of me, I’ll be safe.

.:o:.:o:.:o:.:o:.:o:.

When I wake, I’m laying in a bed and covered with blankets, but it’s not my bed. Turning my face into the pillow, I smell cedar and take a deep breath. My stomach hurts, and I feel empty. Numb. The bed is narrow, only a little wider than a twin, but long enough to accommodate Alistair’s height. The scrap of sky I can see through the open window tells me it’s late in the day. Whatever happened in the fallout from the party, I’ve missed it, and I cannot find it within me to care. By now, Enzo is likely dead. I don’t care. I pull the blankets up over my shoulder and burrow down into Alistair’s bed, hiding. If I could go home, I would. Tommy could never touch me now. I’d kill him.

I never expected to feel homesick.

Heartsick.

Sick of life.

I can hear Leliana’s voice murmuring in the next room, through the closed door, and Zevran’s, agitated, angry. I don’t care.

I don’t.

I don’t, I don’t...

I do. Oh gods, I do. I don’t want to. I don’t want to care anymore.

I can’t hide forever. Especially not here, even though I want to. It would be easy. So easy.

I don’t deserve easy.

Slowly, I pull the covers down and climb out of the bed as Leliana and Zevran continue to argue, and just open the door. There is sudden silence in the room as everyone turns to stare at me - Alistair, Zevran, Leliana, Anders - with a mixture of shock, horror, and sympathy in their eyes. I have no idea what I look like. I don’t care. I just look at Zevran, feeling nothing, but I know now that this is a thin veneer over a roiling morass. Any little thing will shatter it.

A myriad of expressions flicker across his face in an instant, starting with the anger I’ve caught him in, flowing easily one into the next: shock, guilt, concern, pain. Soul-sucking pain, echoing my own. My heart clenches. I can’t do this. He takes a step toward me and I back away without meaning to, but I can’t help it. I swallow reflexively, my throat tight with all the agony of what I cannot speak, what I don’t dare even think about.

I have laid everything I am and all that I will ever be at his feet, and he doubts me. I let him tattoo me, I wear his ring, his earring, and he doubts me. I killed an entire house full of people for him - me, a carpenter, when all I want is peace - and he doubts me.

I see him swallow, nervous. “Cara, please,” he begins, but I flinch from the endearment, and he grimaces. Glancing around, I realize we’re in Alistair’s office, and now I know what this door is. Slowly, I reach up and unclasp the necklace, gathering it in my palm, and look down at it. The numbness still blankets me, and I feel my expression flat as I toss it to him.

“Better return it. Poison’s run its course,” I say, my voice as desolate as I feel. “I’m sorry I forgot to give it to you before you left.” He winces, knowing full well the circumstances of our parting, and has the grace to look at his hands.

“Ah... yes. I... should do that,” he says, groping for words, turning away.

I swallow. This is killing me. “Zevran,” I say, and he lifts his head, back to me. I can see the sudden tension in his shoulders, and I realize I’ve never called him by his full name before. It’s always been Zev. “Thank her for me.” Only Ferrilin would have something like that, only she would have stipulated that no Crow get their hands on it, and the short nod he gives before disappearing through the door confirms it.

There is a moment of silence while everyone looks at each other, and I just stare at the door, then Anders says, “Ah, I can heal that now, if you like.” I glance at him, but he’s looking at Alistair, and as he turns his head, I see that he has a bruise on his jaw, his cheekbone swollen and raw. He nods, and Anders goes to him, the light flaring in his hand just erasing the damage like it was never there. Then he looks up at me. “Lily?”

I shake my head, glancing around the room. “Where’s a mirror?” I ask, and the men shift uncomfortably, but Leliana stands up.

“I’ll bring one.” In a few moments, she returns, a portrait mirror in her hands. She sets it up on a chair, leaning against the wall, then just turns to look at me. I swallow, hesitating, but go over to it, looking into the polished surface.

I am frightful. My hair is tangled and unruly, my bodice gapping in the front showing rather more cleavage than I would prefer, my chemise fallen off one shoulder, but it’s my face that really gets me. I do have two black eyes, very, very purple, and blotchy patches of bruising all over, even down my neck, just the right size to seem like fingerprints, even though they aren’t. Anders comes up beside me as I stare numbly at my reflection, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Do you want me to heal it?” he asks softly, and I bite my lip.

“No,” I say, at last. “I want him to see it. This isn’t--” I have to swallow twice before I can speak without my voice breaking. “This isn’t any better than what I left, and I want him to see it.”

There is a pause, and I can see him chewing something over, then he says, “I think you need to see it.”

I blink, feeling my brows draw together. “What?”

Anders sighs softly. “Look. Really look at her,” he says, pointing to my reflection. “Who is she, really?”

“Uh... I’m Lily.”

“Yes,” he says patiently, his eyes holding a depth of understanding I’m simply not fathoming. “But Lily who?”

“Maxwell,” I whisper, almost apologetic, and he nods.

“Exactly. That woman, right there, is not Lily Mahariel. She isn’t. Lily Mahariel is dead. She died ending the Blight. There were thousands who saw her die, who saw her body. The man who just walked out of this office carried it away and had her buried somewhere. She’s dead. You’re not her.”

I blink a few times, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. “I know! I know, but I’m trying--”

He grabs my wrists, pulls my hands away from my face, leaning down so he can look me in the eye. “That’s the problem. You realize you don’t have to, right?”

I stare at him, at a total loss. “But-- The Crows have a contract--”

“That was for Lily Mahariel,” Alistair says. “Not you.”

“But I am her,” I protest, turning toward him, and he shakes his head.

“No... she was you, but you’re not her. You do see the difference, right? You told me yourself. She was a warrior, a rogue, an elf... you are a carpenter, and human. This isn’t your life.... or... it doesn’t have to be, if you don’t want it.” He comes closer, and I swallow thickly, suddenly feeling the ground sliding out from under me as he pins me with his eyes. “Every time I manage to get you talking about what you’re doing, you make it sound like you have no choices. Like you’re trapped.”

I swallow. “I don’t have any choice, though, even if there isn’t technically a contract on me. Zev’s life is tied to mine, and mine to his. If I don’t help him, we’ll both die. He needs me.”

Leliana’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the room like a razor. “And what do you need?” she asks. This, this one simple question, stops me dead in my tracks. No one has ever asked me that. Not like this. What do you need to eat, what do you need for clothes, what do you need for your health, but never what do you need from life. I don’t even know. I’ve never thought about it.

I swallow. At first, what I needed was to get away from Tommy, and then what I needed was to be close to Zevran. But... “It’s only about what I have to do. What I have to do to measure up, to be good enough, strong enough, fast enough. What I have to do to survive, what I have to do to-- to--.”

“To be what he needs,” Anders says, his voice flat, and I catch myself nodding. “And never mind what you need? You realize you’re still thinking the same way? Trying to keep your ‘him’ happy, no matter the cost? Yes, it’s improved, because Zevran doesn’t seem like the type of man to hurt a woman, not like that, but you’re still doing the same thing: you’re crushing down your own needs and your own desires so that you can feed his. Is that really your only goal in life? To be his woman?”

I stand there, staring at him, stunned to silence. It sounds so pathetic when he puts it that way, and the problem is, he’s right. It is pathetic. The goal that Zev has, to take over the Crows, is not mine. It’s not the life I want, it’s just the life I’ve been handed. It’s the price of being at his side. I have to pay it, I have to bear it. I have to be strong. I can’t be a coward.

“Is it worth it?” My gaze flicks to Alistair as he speaks again, leaning against his desk, facing me, eye level now that he’s half-sitting, and I blink. “Is it worth it to break yourself, to lose yourself, just to stay in his bed?”

“You’re not just an accessory to his life, sweetling. It’s yours, too,” Leliana says. “You have a right to ask for things, to desire something else, to disagree.”

And still, all I can do is stand here frozen, with all three of them looking at me. I can’t think what to do, so I put my hands over my face and bow my head. I’ve gone straight from one life or death situation to another. No time to breathe, no time to consider. I love Zevran, so fiercely it’s eclipsed everything, dragged me to an entirely different planet, someplace impossible. So blindly, that I couldn’t even begin to see myself, in all the scramble to just follow him, to try and make myself into someone worthy of him, worthy to be here. Worthy to exist.

Without him, I don’t even know who I am, why I’m here... and that’s exactly their point. I fell apart on both Lels and Alistair last night, this morning, and I said that. I said exactly that, though I didn’t quite realize it. I’ve had a fucking emotional breakdown, all over the people I’m trying so hard to hold it together in front of. And that’s another thing, if I’m going to be entirely honest with myself: I feel completely alone here. I don’t feel like I can tell the truth, and I haven’t felt like I could, not... not for a long time. Since long, long before I ever got here.

I feel my shoulders hunch as I take a deep breath, trying to get a grip before I start crying again. Running my fingers through my hair roughly, I dislodge a bunch of tangles, liking the pain of it because it brings a bit of clarity, a little more ability to hold myself together.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I feel... hollow.” I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart pounding and fit to fly out of my chest as I force myself to be fully fucking honest for once, with these people who have put their lives on the line for me - not her, but me - and given me a great deal. They deserve some truth. They deserve at least this much from me. “I haven’t-- I never even thought about it. I just...” I gesture awkwardly, at a loss.

“Followed?” Alistair offers softly, and I nod, feeling another round of crying burning at the corners of my eyes and trying so hard not to let it loose.

There’s a moment of silence while I attempt to gather my scattered self-respect, and then Leliana asks me another question. “If you could choose to do anything at all right now, anything in all the world, no restrictions, what would you wish for?”

I pause, giving that some serious thought. “Well... First, I want to smoke a big fat bowl of ganja, then listen to some music while I beat the snot out of some driftwood and turn it into something useful. Then take a hot shower, eat some chocolate ice cream, and go to bed. Problem is, I only get to have two out of six, if I’m lucky.”

Another silence, then, “These are not the words of a woman who wants to be Queen of the Crows, sweetling,” she says gently, and I choke.

“Because-- Because I don’t. I don’t want that. It’s just... It’s just what I have to do,” I say, helplessly, because it’s true. “I can either stand next to him or lose him. He’ll be killed, and me, too. It’s-- it’s just the price I have to pay... to be here... to-- to love him...”

“That brings us right back around to my first question: is it worth it? Only you can decide that, but you’re still talking like you’re trapped. I’ll back you up, no matter what you choose, but I’m telling you, from the way I found you this morning, and the way you stand here now, the answer really doesn’t look like ‘yes’,” Alistair says, and I look up at him, meeting his eyes.

Zevran’s moment of jealousy is causing me to doubt everything. Everything, all at once. I don’t know what to do. I carried Lily Mahariel’s opinions with me here, never really giving myself a chance to develop my own. I’ve thought it before, that dealing with these people face-to-face has been entirely different - especially Alistair - but I never really let myself feel it. I didn’t dare look at it too closely... because when I do, everything crumbles apart. Including me.

“I-- I-- I don’t-- I don’t know-- what-- what to-- what to do--” I stutter, losing my breath, feeling a great chasm opening within me, and there’s no one to catch me, the way I’m falling. My heart thuds painfully on the back of an adrenaline rush, and I press a hand to my chest as I struggle to breathe, realizing remotely I’m about to have an actual panic attack. “Oh gods,” I whisper brokenly, and suddenly all I want to do is run, but there’s nowhere to run to. I can’t go home. I don’t want to go back to the room I’ve been sharing with Zevran. Everything else is too crazy to contemplate. I want to be someplace safe, just safe. All I want is to be safe, for once in my life, just for a few minutes, and I’ll never, ever have that. Not with Zev. Finally admitting this to myself, finally confronting it head-on, is like a hammer blow, sends me to my knees.

“Make sure you plan your weakness carefully, otherwise it will ambush you when you least expect it,” Anders said to me, just two days ago, and he was right. I had no idea how close to the edge I’ve been. My ears ring and spots dance in front of my eyes as I bow my head, putting my hands over my face, struggling to take deep breaths and ride it through.

I’m weak. I don’t want to be, but I am. I’m so weak. I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t. I’m too far from home, too crazy, too broken. I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t want to be a liability. I just want to be safe, I just want peace, and I’ll never have it, not ever, never again. I just wanted to get away from the violence, and I can’t. I can’t. I’m such a coward. I thought, if I could just get to him, I’d be safe, I’d finally be safe, no one would hurt me anymore, but it’s not true, and he doesn’t even believe in me, no matter how much I lay down for him. It’s all for nothing, all the fighting, all the blood, all for nothing, because I’m still not safe and there’s nowhere else to go and nothing I can do to change it. I’m so tired of being broken, being hurt, being scared. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I’ve been scared for fifteen years, and I’m tired. I’m tired. Nothing ever changes, no matter who I’m with, no matter how far I run.

I don’t realize that I’ve said all of this out loud in a shuddering rush of self-destruction until Leliana’s voice comes from right next to me. “Shhhh... All right, it’s all right Lily, shhh...” Her arms wrap around me and she leans into me, pulling me into her embrace as I try to remember how to breathe, gagging on all the terror I’ve been pushing down and ignoring, pretending it doesn’t exist. I’ve never showed so much in all my adult life. Not since Mom threw me out when I was sixteen, and I had to learn how to stand on my own two feet and survive. Not since that first night, when I sat in the park and cried out all my childish beliefs in my mother, and all the things I was always taught a mother was supposed to be. I swore no one would ever see me like this, never again, but I can’t help it. I just can’t hold myself together, can’t even stop the shaking, though I do manage to keep it quiet.

My body can’t sustain the tempest forever, not after all the gut-wrenching that happened with the poison, and eventually it subsides into a dull haze. Slowly, I realize that I’m laying on my side, curled up tightly, my head on Leliana’s lap, just staring at one of the legs on Alistair’s desk as she runs her fingers gently through my hair. My weakness, my total meltdown, bared in front of these people, makes me feel so small, so very small. They’re so much stronger, so much more capable than me. And now they know it. It’s only a matter of time before everything, everything just slips through my fingers.

And I’ll deserve it.

“Lily,” Leliana murmurs, and I roll my eyes to the side, looking up at her. “Zevran is here. Do you want to see him?” The trapped little bird behind my breast begs for his presence, whispers to me treacherous agony, and I push myself up to sitting, a more difficult task than it has any right to be.

Zev, Zev please, take me away from all this madness, take me back to yesterday, to last night, before we went to our room, just take me back to when you loved me, and I loved you, and that was enough...

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice having deserted me a long time ago. I bow my head, unable to look up, ashamed of myself and all that I’ve just thrown away. I can hear Alistair murmuring in the hallway, his tone firm and cold, and then there is a silence. After a moment, I become aware of Zevran’s boots in my peripheral, but I don’t move.

Please touch me, oh gods, I need you, I need you so much...

I hear his leathers creak as he crouches down next to me, one knee going to the floor, and a trembling hand reaches for mine. It takes all my self-control not to flinch, but I cannot bring myself to curl my fingers around his. My heart is a frozen wasteland.

Pull me back from this ledge...

“Lily...” he says, but I can’t look up. If I look at him, it’ll all come back, and I can’t take any more right now.

Don’t let me fall...

“Yes.”

Tell me you love me...

“Amora, please,” he says softly, his other hand reaching out to sweep my hair aside, and I do flinch, but I turn my face, slowly looking up at him, because it’s what he wants. His eyes go wide, some horror, some shock in them. I cannot feel anything at the moment.

Tell me I’m your world...

“It should have been you, holding me through the poison,” I whisper. “It should have been you with me, this morning.”

Tell me this isn’t going to end in tears...

My throat works, trying to dislodge the constriction, but there’s no relief from the strangling. “Instead, you let the Crows, and all the suspicion and jealousy they create in you, take you away from me.”

Tell me I wasn’t just imagining things...

I take a stuttering breath, forcing the words out, raspy from taking just far too much abuse. “You want me to trust you, but you don’t believe in me enough to know that I would never be anything but true to you, after everything I’ve done to try and prove myself worthy. I don’t even know why I’m here anymore.”

Tell me I haven’t done anything wrong...

He presses his lips together, his hand tightening on mine. “Lily... I-- I apologise... I did not know...” I snort, choking on that, and shake my head, pulling my hand back.

I love you...

“Please, let us go someplace else,” he says, pleading in those golden depths, and this is the moment when my heart breaks, shatters, dropped on the floor, because I know I can’t ever fix this.

Tell me you believe in me...

“No,” I say, shaking my head, and seeing the way this breaks him eviscerates what’s left of me.

Take me home...

“I’m not going with you.”

“You are my wife, so I--” he says helplessly, practically begging me, and I cut him off, because I have to.

“That’s what I thought, too,” I whisper, bowing my head again.

I never want to leave you...

Reaching up with trembling hand, I pull the earring from my ear, then slip the ring from my finger, and drop them into his hand, both halves of my bleeding, broken heart. I want to snatch them back. I feel naked without them.

Don’t take them... fight... tell me you didn’t mean it...

“Give them to someone you believe in.” I can’t look at him, or I’ll lose my resolve. If he asks me to go with him one more time, I won’t have the strength to deny him any more. If he touches me again, I’ll fall into his arms and never look back, sucked into all the madness and death, just to have his hands on me, yes, just to be allowed to drown in his eyes. So dangerous. They’re right; I’d do anything for him. Even destroy myself. It’s not healthy.

Touch me, oh gods, don’t let me leave, don’t leave, kiss me, take me in your arms and promise me we’ll be safe...

Turning away, I crawl and stumble to my feet, my back to him, swaying like a tree in a strong wind, and just walk through a door at random, closing it behind me.

I’m back in Alistair’s room.

Slowly, I sink down onto his bed, staring numbly out the window at the dark Antivan sky, the moon just beginning to peek over the horizon.

Come for me, don’t let them win, don’t let it be like this, don’t let them take you away... Don’t leave me here... Don’t leave me...

I’m too weak. I knew it from the start. I’m too weak. I can’t stand by him, I can’t be his queen. I’m not the woman he needs. I want to be, but I’m not. I’m just not.

It’s not my body that’s betrayed me, but my mind. The irony leaves me cold.

...And when she covers him, he sets her aflame, Zev’s voice whispers in my memory, less than a week ago. One tear rolls down my cheek, falling from the edge of my jaw to land on the back of my hand, and I realize I’m holding my little bone spiral, my thumb circling and circling it. Life, death, rebirth, ‘round and ‘round we go.

No... no, please... Aphrodite, please... save us... Oh gods please save us...

The moon has fully risen when the door behind me opens and closes again, a stripe of light falling across the room, quickly snuffed. “Lily.”

It’s over...

“Alistair,” I whisper, unable to look away from the moon, this strange orb that I never laid eyes on before washing up on Zevran’s shore.

I’ve lost him...

“He’s gone,” he murmurs quietly.

Oh gods... oh gods, no... no, please...

“Good,” I say, choking on the lie, and then, after a moment, “I’m sorry...”

I hear him shift, then he’s sitting next to me on the bed. “Maker’s breath, for what?”

“Lying to you. I’ll... I’ve got skills... So much of the carving I see around here is crude compared to what I could do with the right tools... I’ll... I’ll find a way to get my own place...”

Come back...

“What? Wait, you think-- You think I’m just going to turn you out?” A hand rests on my shoulder, then one finger comes up under my chin, turning my face toward him. “Lily... Don’t. That’s nonsense,” he says, softly. “You didn’t lie to me. I can see it, clear as day: you’re you. A Dalish woman I used to know spoke with your voice, your words, your heart and mind. I’m not going to abandon you. I told you I’d be your shield, and I meant it. Not hers, yours. I‘ve known you were someone different from the start,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear, tracing the rounded edge with one fingertip. “You’re just really good at confusing things, with all the things you know. Sometimes it’s hard to untangle the threads, but I think I’ve got it... especially after today. I can give you the peace you’re looking for. Stay, Lily. Please.”

“Oh gods.” All the things I wanted to hear from Zev are truth falling from Alistair’s lips instead. Aphrodite, Aphrodite save me... I can feel my lower lip tremble, and my desire to grab onto that offer with both hands is powerful. “It’s too easy,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I’m such a coward.”

“Not everything has to be hard and complicated,” he says, quietly. “Sometimes simple is better.”

He can and will follow through on this promise, to keep me safe and give me peace. I’ve only encountered anything different when I’ve left here. Oh, the safe thing, the easy thing. So dangerous. “Okay,” I whisper simply, brokenly, and lose another tear, just one, feeling more vulnerable now than I ever have in all my life.

“Maker,” he whispers. It must be all over my face. He opens his arms and I know I should hesitate, but I can’t. I need someone I can trust right now, and he’s here. I curl up against his side, letting him hold me, and rest my head on his shoulder, completely wrung out.

“I don’t want to think anymore,” I confess, and he kisses the top of my head, pulling me closer.

“So don’t. It’s all right for tonight. There’s nothing that can’t wait for morning, I promise you,” he murmurs. “Just rest, Lily... you deserve it. You’re safe here.”

“Safe,” I repeat, hardly daring to believe, even as my eyes are slipping closed again.

“Always,” he says, murmuring on the edge of my consciousness.


[Next Chapter]