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Mahariel awoke at the very first lights of dawn. He hit his skull twice, hoping to shut the voice in his head. It would never stop. Even when sleeping, if he wasn’t having a nightmare, he could still hear it. It sounded like a whisper, a quiet melody in the back of his mind. Mahariel sighed and sat on what was used as a mattress.
They slept under the stars, near the lake, their fish canes barely packed. How many days have they spent like this? Hundred? Thousand? They never officially stopped seeking a cure but they weren’t actually looking for it anymore. Both elves were getting older; the end was getting nearer. They both knew but none dared to say it out loud.
Mahariel grabbed his bag and dig his hand in it. His delicate hand with that gloomy skin. He felt that it was getting paler every time he looked at it. From his bag, he took out a small piece of mirror. He kept it from his little adventure with Finn and Ariane, when they went back to these ruins. Everything began because of that damn mirror. It ruined his life, it ruined him, tainted him.
Reluctant, Mahariel glared at his reflection, as best as he could with that shattered glass. He looked like a mere shadow of himself with that cadaverous complexion, those bloodied eyes and apparent veins. What a hideous sight, he thought. He would be able to scare a darkspawn if he wanted to.
He used to be handsome, he was often praise for his beauty back in his clan. Himself knew that he was a gorgeous individual, he used it for his own benefit many times. It seemed like ages ago. How old was he now? 40? 45? He couldn’t even tell. Almost three decades passed since he became a warden.
Suddenly, Mahariel felt movement beside him. Tenderly, his companion grabbed him by the waist and stood up to put his chin on his shoulder.
"What are you doing, my dear?" Zevran asked him staring at him through the glass.
"Mourning," He coldly replied.
Zevran couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes as he already knew what he was about to say.
"I look like a monster."
"No, you don’t," Zevran quickly said back, kissing his neck, trying to comfort him.
"Don’t lie to me," Mahariel angrily sighed, staring at himself. "I look disgusting, repulsing. I barely look like an elf."
"That’s just not true," Zevran whisper to him, taking the piece of mirror from his hands and tossing it aside.
The ex-assassin grabbed his face with his left hand and stared at him with a sincere smile.
"I see you."
"And what do you see?" Mahariel asked with a cracked voice.
Zevran stood up a bit and started to arrange his hair before his eyes.
"I see two beautiful brown eyes turning yellow with the sunlight," he said, staring at them. "I see a soft fair skin," He continued lovingly stroking his cheeks. "And wet red lips asking to be kissed…" He whispered as he dropped a peck on them. "The apple of my eyes," Zevran smiled meeting his stare. "I see the love of my life"
Mahariel sadly smiled as he closed his eyes and turned his head away.
"I could look like a frog; you’d tell me I’m a piece of art."
"Well, I’m sure you’d make a pretty frog," Zevran joked.
It made Mahariel vaguely smiled. How blessed he was to have Zevran by his sides. The man never gave up on him and they have been together since the day he tried to kill him. Mahariel would never have guessed he would find a friend in him or a lover. Zevran gave him his heart and soul, dedicated his all life to him and his own purpose.
Mahariel noticed it a few years ago but, Zevran seemed a lot like him, when he was younger and madly in love with Tamlen. His world depended on his best friend, everything he would say, everything he would do, it was for him and him only. He would have died for him, killed for him, he would have done everything for him. But he died and his whole world collapsed. Mahariel remained without any purpose and hold on his grey warden duties.
"You remember the darkspawn that attacked us in the middle of the night once? During the Blight?" Mahariel asked.
He barely mentioned who he was to Alistair and never spoke of him again. Tamlen, his dear friend, was a forgotten thought. Zevran seemed to have a hard time remembering until Mahariel mentioned the grave they made for him that night.
"His name was Tamlen," Mahariel sighed, wetting his lips. "He got tainted the same way I did. In fact, it is his fault. But I did nothing to stop him."
Zevran listened religiously as Mahariel took a deep breath.
"I loved him," He continued. "But I never confessed. I never said it out loud, too scared it would make these forbidden feelings too real."
Zevran grabbed his hand, linking their fingers as Mahariel started to tear up.
"That night he found me… If I knew he was still alive, I wouldn’t have given up searching. I hated Duncan, so much, for forcing me to leave and join the Order."
Mahariel thought for a minute before he continued: "I gave up on him. I promised I never would but I did. I mourned him and before I even knew it, he was only a part of my past, something I would never go to again now that I was a warden."
Zevran swiped the drops under his eyes silently, listening to him still.
"I never confessed," he repeated. "But he did, that night. I knew, inside of me it wasn’t one sided. Our friendship was… weird, something was off and I knew deep inside it was because of these unspoken feelings."
"You remind me a lot of me. The ‘in love with Tamlen’ me," he specified. "You gave up everything to stay by my side and I don’t understand why."
"You know why," quietly laughed Zevran.
"But why do you love me?" Mahariel asked more clearly.
"I don’t know," honestly answered Zevran. "Why did you love that Tamlen boy?"
"I… I don’t know. I can’t remember," Mahariel sighed, realizing it has been too long these feelings faded away.
"Then, why do you love me? If you love me even," Zevran joked.
Mahariel gave him a dark look, offended he would suggest that, even for a joke. Then, he gently squeezed his hand and replied: "I feel like home, you feel like home. And I want you to feel the same thing."
"Fortunately for the both of us, I do feel the same thing," Zevran laughed as he kissed his hand.
The two elves stayed like these a few minutes in silence until Mahariel spoked again.
"You have no regret? You gave years of your life for a lost cause."
"You’re not a lost cause," Zevran replied with frowned brows. "Every single day we spend together looking for a cure is a blessing."
"But what will you do, when I’ll have to leave, inevitably, for the Deep Roads?"
"I’ll go with you."
Mahariel looked at his eyes and whispered: "I don’t want to see you die."
"But I want to die by your side."
Mahariel smiled as he started to cry. He grabbed Zevran face and kissed him on the mouth softly. It was still too painful for him to accept that this was what was going to happen. There would be no immortal life, no happiness ever after, only death and void.
"You don’t have to," Mahariel breathed against his lips. "You could find happiness again. Like I did with you."
When he was younger, he thought that death would be sweeter than living without Tamlen and he could not have been more wrong. He did not want Zevran to make the same mistake he did and hold onto a love to the point of losing himself.
"True happiness cannot be replace," Zevran softly laughed. "You’re already are my second chance, my true happiness, my true love."
Zevran grabbed his face with both of his hands and tenderly stroked his cheeks.
"I had a good life and all good things must come to an end. Maker, I’d be blessed if I can choose for my own ending to be with you."
Mahariel closed his eyes he quietly laughed. He could not understand what Zevran found in him, what could have made him stay for so long. But he was so glad to have him. Mahariel grabbed his neck and kissed him passionately.
“Then, you don’t have a choice now,” Mahariel whispered against his lips. “You’re stuck with me until the very end.”
All Zevran did was smiling as he kissed him back.