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Zevran,
It's been too long since I've seen you, heard your voice, felt your skin under my nails.
Things are really, really odd back here in Ferelden. Some of these houseguests are actually talking! Can you believe that? Probably not. It's true though, I don't lie unless it's with you.
Heh, get it? Lie?
We have three new Gray Wardens, one of them you know. If you guess who, I'll give you a special something when we see each other again.
The Crows didn't know what hit them, huh? Tell me about it please, thinking of your smile isn't enough some nights. That said, much as I want to hear about you killing all those bastards, you should probably try to negotiate. Sooner your madness is over and done with, the sooner I can have you back in mine.
I hate responsibility, and I'm getting sick of being in charge. Nobody really wants a dirty knife ear for a Commander, especially one like me. Too bad for them, it doesn't look like I can up and leave.
We don't say it enough, and if it still makes me feel strange I can't imagine how you feel, but I love you. Stay safe, keep warm, and may your daggers be sharp, my darling.
With all the pomposity that comes with being an Arlessa,
Warden Commander Caramaine Tabris
P.S. You left your gloves here. I'm currently holding them for ransom of a thousand kisses. You'd better get started.
(There's a pressed flower in the folds of the letter, also a crude drawing of a phallus.)