The Hiding Place

"Where is he?" Zevran wondered aloud, crossing the bare wooden floors to the door. The halls were still quiet, still no sign of his Warden.

He had planned to sneak into his room, an attempt at surprising Elam by crawling into his arms. His Warden did not like a surprise that was true, especially at this late hour. He however was certain that Elam would forgive him this once.

Zevran knew he would break Elam's heart again when he learned of his planned return to Antiva in a few days time. He should not even be back in Ferelden – the fight against the crows was succeeding marvelously, he would have to return.

He would return. If he were fortunate, Elam would be at his side.

The sound of faint footsteps pulled Zevran from his thoughts, frustration only building as they passed the door, continuing down the hall.

Elam was, if anything predictable. He never failed to retire or rise at the same time every day. This predictability was something Zevran had missed terribly, his constant warden.

"Perhaps the desk holds some clue to this mystery" he chuckled as he moved across the room. He had spied Elam speaking with what he assumed were more wardens in the yard upon his arrival. He must still be here.

"Ah, there is my Warden…" Zevran smiled, staring down at the multiple piles of neatly stacked papers, his fingers tracing the intricate seals still partially attached. There was no clearer evidence of Elam than neatly stacked and organized spaces.

Gently thumbing through the stacks Zevran found no clue of a late meeting or business that would take him from the keep. Running his fingers gently along the edge of the heavy wooden desk, he pressed and heard a small click reverberate as a small door swung loose.

Zevran chuckled as he slid the leather case from its hiding place. He had taught his warden well or at least well enough, the case would be an easy find for someone like himself, but perhaps that was not an issue here.

Opening the case, Zevran found a stack of neatly arranged parchments, all methodically dated and stored without a seal. It was clear these held importance to Elam, but why not send them he wondered.

"Warden…" Zevran whispered sadly, as he slowly realized that every parchment bore his name. These were all letters to him, all in Elam's hand, unaddressed because there had been nowhere to address them.

Closing his eyes, Zevran was uncertain if he should pry at Elam's most personal thoughts, would he even like what he found. Curiosity getting the better of him he carefully read the scripted lines of the first letter.

...

Zevran,

It has been only a few months but it feels like years. The one letter I received from you, torn and tattered from constant reading, is the only thing that sustains me some days. Where are you? Are you safe? Please come back to me soon.

Elam


His whole body suddenly tense, Zevran flipped hastily through the stack finding a letter further towards the center.

...

Zevran,

It is odd being Arl. I am certain that most people in Amaranthine do not know what to make of me and the other Grey Wardens. The Darkspawn are still a threat here and constantly ravage the countryside. Some of the things I have seen in my months here I cannot even describe. Did you know they could talk?

Your voice is fading from my memory every day. I take comfort that I can still see your face when I close my eyes but I fear I am losing you. I miss you.

Elam


Placing the stack of letters in his lap, Zevran looked around the room trying to come to terms with the growing weight in his chest.

The time in Antiva had been hard on him, every corner of Antiva brought a memory he had longed to share with Elam, but could not. He had often started speaking only to realize there was no one to listen. Letters would have only given him away and he had feared what his silence had meant to Elam.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, he leafed through to the final letter. It was unaddressed and the hand in which it was written was uneven.

...

Where are you? I gave the order to burn a city down with its people inside to secure the threat from the Darkspawn and save my fellow Wardens. Duncan and Alistair had both told me that a Warden does what he must, but this.

I should be at your side, but am instead drinking to silence the screams. I am told every day that this had been the only way, the best decision. What have I done?

I did not want this life, I only ever wanted you.

I love you.


Carefully, Zevran replaced the letters and their case back into their hiding place. If his Warden wanted to share the rest, he would leave that to him. He had seen enough to understand.

Opening the door, he paused to rest his head on the cool wooden planks, allowing the shaking in his hands to subside.

His planned surprise felt shallow, he needed to track his warden down, pull him into his arms and never let go. Stepping into the corridor, he felt something inside that had been missing for so long, something he only felt near Elam.

His Warden would leave this place with him; they would never be parted again. This he swore.