#Zevwarden week 2023 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zevraholics · 8 months

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ZevWarden Week 2023

What is it? A week (this year, November 5th - 11th) of creating new content, sharing it, and celebrating the wonderful relationship between Zevran Arainai and Grey Warden(s) of your choice. How to participate: Feel free to follow the daily prompts as inspiration for whatever ZevWarden-related content your heart desires. Fics, art, meta discussions - everything goes! Remember to tag your works appropriately (ie. #nsfw. Also see our full tag list here.) Most of all, have fun!

Prompts:

Sunday, November 5: Tradition and Trying New Things

Monday, November 6: Secrets, Kept and Told

Tuesday, November 7: Fear and Safety

Wednesday, November 8: Work and Pleasure

Thursday, November 9: Bodies and Minds

Friday, November 10: Favourite Things and Pet Peeves

Saturday, November 11: Family, Lost and Found

Tag your content with #zevwarden week 2023 or @zevraholics on your post and we’ll reblog it here.

*Any art found to be whitewashing Zevran will not be shared.

Day 1 - Sunday, November 5 - Tradition and Trying New Things

"It's Antivan tradition to throw coins in such a well as this. Supposedly it brings one luck." Which traditions (cultural, familial, personal) do Zevran and the Warden have in common, and which are different? Are there any that are unfamiliar at first, but one of them shares with the other? What are ways the two of them break with the past, forge their own paths, or maybe even create new traditions?

Day 2 - Monday, November 6 - Secrets, Kept and Told

Morrigan, "Are [the Crows] so powerful simply because they are very good at what they do? Or is there some secret to their power?" Zevran, "If there were a secret, it would only remain so if it were not told, my dear." What secrets do Zevran and the Warden keep from other people? From each other? Are there any consequences of keeping secrets, positive or negative? What truths eventually reach the light of day, and how does that reveal come about?

Day 3 - Tuesday, November 7 - Fear and Safety

"You mean you want to hear about the grueling training? Being locked in an oubliette for weeks at a time? The slavery? The festering injuries? Or are we seeking something more glamorous?" / "Oh, those things never happened to me." There are stand-out moments of fear in the life of any Grey Warden or an Antivan Crow. Share a time one or both of them were terrified. Did they face fear bravely, or did it get the better of them? What was the impact of that moment? Or, share a story about a time the two of them found safety, comfort, or calm. How did that feeling come about? Was it short-lived or long lasting?

Day 4 - Wednesday, November 8 - Work and Pleasure

"Falling down a flight of stairs is an adventure. Falling into someone's bed? Also an adventure. I am assuming what you're looking for are professional anecdotes." How much adventuring do Zevran and the Warden get up to after Origins, either together or on their own? What jobs or titles do they come to have, what anecdotes do they have to tell? Or do they settle down for a quiet life somewhere—either restlessly or happily?

Day 5 - Thursday, November 9 - Bodies and Minds

Alistair, "So those... designs you have all over your back..." Zevran, "They're called tattoos. And I have them in many more places than just on my back, my friend." What stories do Zevran and the Wardens' bodies tell? How have their bodies changed over time? How do they carry themselves, or use gestures or mannerisms? What about a time when they ran, swam, fought, or enjoyed other physical movement? Or focus your work on a part of the body - eyes, hands, hair, scars.

Day 6 - Friday, November 10 - Favorite Things and Pet Peeves

"I fancy many things. I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting.Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?" What are Zevran and the Warden's favorite things about each other? How did they discover those favorite things—slowly over time, or in one particular moment? What things get on their nerves about the other person? Is this something they make an effort to change, or does their partner just have to learn to live with it?

Day 7 - Saturday, November 11 - Family, Lost and Found

"Surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment, after all." Maybe the Warden resonates with that particular line from Zevran, maybe they don't. What does being part of a family mean to the Warden and Zevran? Does the answer change across different points in their lives? If they regard each other as part of a family, is there anyone else involved in their family? (Friends, other lovers, biological or adopted children, elders?)

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevwarden week #zevwarden #zevran x warden #zevran arainai #zevran #dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanart #zevraholics anonymous

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maiwong1 · 6 months

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Day 7:Family,lost and found

Do not ask why Grey Warden can get pregnant and be mom just i think zevran is too vigorous&she is strong

ps.i think daughter must be a mage too

#zevran #zevwarden week 2023 #zevran arainai #zevranweek #zevwarden #dragon age #zevran x warden #zevran x amell #zevran x f!warden

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m-m-m-myysurana · 6 months

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ZevWarden Week Day One: Tradition, and Trying New Things

Neria had danced many times before. Dancing together around the fire under the light of the stars was a well-loved tradition in her clan. But this kind of dancing was entirely new to her. The festival was crowded with people moving against each other, the music so loud she could barely hear herself think. Zev guided her through the music, his breath in her ear, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was all seduction and intrigue and soon had her breathless. It was not at all what she'd anticipated when Zev had insisted on taking her dancing, but the night intoxicated her, and she found herself letting go of all her many troubles and allowing the music to take over. That night could have lasted forever, but when it did finally end, she knew that this would soon become a little tradition of their own.

Yes, it is ZevWarden Week, and I am bursting out of my seemingly endless hiatus like Mariah Carey on the first day of November, just so I can bring you the good news of our lord and savior Zevran Arainai.

#zevwarden week 2023 #Day 1 Tradition and Trying New Things #My Art #zevran arainai #neria surana #Neria and Zev #I wish I could say with certainty that there will be more but I have absolutely nothing prepared and this was very last minute!#So we shall see

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waxworks1992 · 6 months

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Warden-Commander Surana and his newly minted husband honeymooning in Antiva for zevwarden week 2023 :)

#technically this is the tradition/new things prompt but im fully a day late ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯#zevwarden #zevwarden week 2023 #dragon age #zevran arainai

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shivunin · 6 months

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In Peace

(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran Arainai | 1,846 Words | Fluff | AO3 Link | CW: brief references to sex, implied/past suicidal thoughts)

Summary: Zevran and Tabris have developed a nightly routine; it surprises him to realize how much he dislikes the idea of breaking it

When Zevran had first seen Arianwen, they’d been trying to kill each other.

This was not especially odd, he found out later. Statistically speaking, Arianwen was thinking of killing most of the people she met, if she was not already actually attacking them. Zevran was no exception in this; it mattered little that he had been trying to die at the time, and she only obliging his death wish. She had spun through the crowd like dancing death, her face lit with a heady glee. In that moment, Zevran had thought that if he was to die here on some nameless road in Ferelden’s nethers, at least there would be beauty in his death.

Zevran would never have guessed then that she could sleep so sweetly draped across his chest—she had certainly never done so before this night. He certainly would not have guessed that she snored so loudly. It would not have occurred to him to wonder on that first day, Zevran supposed, given that he’d been fighting for his life.

Still—the snoring did come as a surprise. She was usually very quiet when she slept on her side—or perhaps it was simply that her face was closer to his ear now, and thus much louder than he was used to.

His Warden slept with her hair braided, though in a looser plait than she usually wore during the day. Zevran passed a hand over it softly, hoping to wake her enough to make her shift aside. Instead, every muscle in her body that had been soft and liquid went taut at once, entirely alert between one heartbeat and the next.

“Nothing is wrong,” he whispered at once. The alternative was a knife thrown through the wall of his tent, most likely, and he had so recently patched the last hole she’d made.

Arianwen rolled away from him despite his quiet words. When she sat up, her dark silhouette was cut against the lighter blue of his tent, body alert and aware. It was plain that she was listening for some disturbance beyond their tent, so Zevran said nothing more. He propped himself up on his elbows instead, feeling the wash of cooler air against his loose tunic when the blanket fell away from him.

The sky had not lightened outside, but the fire was banked; they were in the deepest part of the night, perhaps an hour or two from the start of her watch. It had become a routine of sorts for her to stay in his tent until then, though she usually returned to her own tent when she was finished. Zevran was not certain if this tradition of hers was some concession to propriety (unlikely) or the delicate sensibilities of some of their traveling fellows (even less likely) or if she simply had no interest in waking up beside him when dawn came.

Knowing her as he did now, he supposed it was most likely some fourth reason that had nothing to do with any of the other things. Perhaps she lovingly polished each of her blades alone in her tent until daybreak. He would not put it past her. But, he realized as she moved to stand, this routine might be more easily broken than expected.

And…perhaps he had grown more attached to it than he might have thought.

“Wait,” he said, his voice abrupt in the quiet of the night. Arianwen paused on her knees.

“What?” she whispered. “I thought you were sleeping.”

Zevran found her hand in the dark on the second try. It was braced on her knee, but she allowed him to pull it away and press it to his mouth instead. Could he tell her not to go? It didn’t seem right, but he could not immediately determine why. She had surprised him by staying when he’d made it clear he had no interest in lovemaking tonight. They had spent plenty of nights together and apart since they’d begun doing whatever it was they were doing. None of the nights together had not featured some sort of…well.

It surprised him now to realize that it had been pleasant to feel her against him as he’d fallen asleep, even if he would have gladly gone without the noise.

“I do seem to recall you sleeping, too,” he told her. “Quite comfortably, in fact.”

He could feel her expression in the silence that followed. It would be the one in which her brows furrowed and she looked at him sidelong, as if trying to weigh whether he was making a joke or not.

“You woke me. Did you not…” she trailed off, taking her hand from his. Zevran peered into the darkness, making no sense of her expression and trying nonetheless.

“I did not mean to,” he told her truthfully.

She moved—he could not see how—and a moment later he felt her breath on his cheek.

“What do you need?” she asked.

Zevran turned his head, nose brushing against the curve of her cheek. Her face was the only part of her not obviously scarred, he had found. Her cheek was very soft against his skin, the fine hairs there tickling softly. When he leaned his cheek against hers, she didn’t waver an inch.

“There is nothing that I need,” he told her, emphasizing the last word, “but I would very much like for us to go back to sleep. Together.”

Slowly, one of her hands came to rest on his knee. Her index finger tapped once, twice. This was a tell: she was thinking very hard. Zevran privately thought that he might be the only one in the world who would know when she was bluffing at cards, should she ever play them. Her face was impossible to read at first glance, but the rest of her body spilled her secrets easily enough. Months on the road had taught him this as they’d taught him everything else he knew about her.

Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Some decision was being made, some calculus of factors entirely beyond him. She had done this before she’d told him to keep his earring, too. The verdict had not been in his favor then. He wondered if he would fare so poorly now, too.

Zevran thought of the weight of her body over his chest, of the way she’d looped leg and arm over him while they’d slept. He thought of the ragged sounds she made in her sleep when the nightmares came, of the way she wrapped herself around him when the foul dreams woke her in the night.

He thought of how the leather and steel scent of her comforted him when his own dark dreams paced close and set shining teeth at his throat. The smell of leather reminds me of home, he’d told her months ago. It reminded Zevran of her now, too, until the three were all twined together as one. He did not want her to go—not yet. He had grown accustomed to sleeping beside her until the moment before she needed to leave.

“Arianwen,” he said, and felt the falter in her tapping. “Mi vida. Come to bed.”

Her sigh rustled his hair.

“I should never have told you I like the way you say my name,” she told him, but he could hear that he’d swayed her already. Only a little more and they could go back to sleep. A few hours more—only a few, but they mattered. He wanted every single moment he could coax out of her. He wasn’t above fighting dirty for them.

“Surely you do have no desire to lace up your boots and stumble through the dark of the whole clearing only to climb into your cold bedroll alone,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her cheek. “My dearest Arianwen. Surely not that.”

The blankets over him shifted when she slid beneath them again. The tip of her braid trailed over his arm. A victory—and it felt like one, for all that it had been a battle of words rather than blades.

“If you are sure I won’t keep you up,” she said doubtfully. “I’ll stay. Until watch.”

Keep him up—was that what she’d been worried about?

Zevran frowned as she settled in beside him again, less than an inch separating their bodies. He lowered himself back onto his bedroll and reached for her hip.

“Come closer,” he told her. “It is cold.”

Tabris came, settling against him stiffly, then relaxing by degrees. Zevran kissed the top of her head and she relaxed further still. After a moment, she tugged the blankets more fully over both of them.

“You wanted me to stay just so you could be warm,” she murmured, though there was no heat to the words. Already, he could feel her slipping into sleep. She fell asleep easily enough, his Warden, though she woke at the slightest provocation. Zevran ignored the surge of affection at the thought, though it grew more difficult to disregard when she slipped an arm around his waist.

“Yes, of course,” he agreed. She made a soft noise, rousing at the words.

“Say’t again,” Arianwen said.

“Say what?” he asked.

Arianwen squeezed him slightly and tucked herself more fully against his shoulder. There was a scar beneath the place where her ear rested, a very thin line just below the joint of his shoulder. She’d stabbed him there all those months ago when they’d first met. One evening, when they’d been dozing in the afterglow, he had casually pointed the silvered line of scar tissue out to her. Tabris had scowled at him and gone all stiff—he still had no idea why—and she’d made a point of not holding him like this for weeks afterward. What a relief it had been when she’d forgotten again.

By day, she was quick and dangerous and sharp. He liked that about her, he’d found. But he liked her like this, too, somnolent and warm against him in the night. This—her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist—this was his alone.

There had been very, very few things in Zevran’s life that had belonged to him alone. He had gone without sleep, without affection, without comfort for so long that he knew better than to disregard such things when they were offered openly. No—such things were the sort one held onto with both hands, even if it took some extra coaxing in the dead of night.

“You know what,” she told him.

Zevran smiled to himself, allowing his eyes to slip closed again.

“Goodnight, Arianwen,” he said.

“”Night, Zevran,” she echoed, her voice slow. “Until watch.”

“Until watch,” he agreed, and paused. “Arianwen.”

She made a soft sound, neither sigh nor purr nor moan, and melted against him. Zevran lay awake for some time after, his eyes shut tight, his hands as still as he could make them. She did not snore, and he did not wake her.

Tabris’s watch came and went.

They both slept soundly through it.

(For Day 5 of Zevwarden Week: Bodies and Minds. Thanks again to @zevraholics for organizing!)

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevran arainai #arianwen tabris #zevran x warden #zevwarden #zevran x f!warden #zevran x tabris #bodies and minds #fluff #snuggling #implied/past suicidal thoughts #hmm guess the theme for this week is #' when we met i had no idea how much i'd love you and now you are a part of me'#i didn't do it on purpose but there it is!

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heniareth · 6 months

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ZevWarden Week 2023 - Day 2 (second)

Because I was inspired and also personally very curious:

You are more than encouraged to expound upon your answer in the tags, comments or a direct reblog. Just make sure to tag your answer with any tags that apply from the list compiled for this event so people can filter to find or avoid. Thank you to @zevraholics for putting all the work into organizing it. Happy polling and happy ZevWarden week 2023!!

#zevwarden week #zevwarden week 2023 #zevwarden #zevran #zevran arainai #other #polls #Ultimate Sacrifice #Angst #secrets

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inquisimer · 6 months

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i carried my own ashes to the mountains

for day 1 of @zevraholics' Zevwarden week 2023, tradition and trying new things - some pre-ship Nika and Zevran, a discussion of what will come of her return to Orzammar.

pairing: f!Brosca & Zevran word count: 1200 rating: general audiences tags: hurt/comfort, platonic relationships, fluff, a hint of pining if you squint

Nika stared at her reflection, warped and hazy in the frozen puddle outside their camp. A few hundred yards back through the trees their tents formed a half-circle around the fire. Beyond that loomed the peaks of the Frostback Mountains and within them, the gates to Orzammar.

Orzammar. Nearly three years gone since she’d left and going back now felt as intimidating as leaving with Duncan had then. Her fingertips traced over the faded brand on her cheek, newly bisected by a long, fresh scar. One of three—souvenirs from their battle with the dragon in Haven. Between that, and the weight on her shoulders, and the harsh cynicism regret had etched into her, she wondered if anyone in Orzammar would recognize the rebellious little casteless who dared defy their laws.

Part of her hoped they wouldn’t. Then she wouldn’t be alone in seeing a stranger in her face.

“Reminiscing, chapparita?”

A twig snapped under Zevran’s weight and Nika’s hand fell from her cheek as she glanced at him over her shoulder. She shrugged.

“Something like that, I suppose.”

Zevran hummed his doubt. Of all her companions, he would know. When they stumbled across his ill-conceived trap, she was still fresh-faced and sun-blind, lost without the cavernous Stone to ground her. She'd nearly shanked him in her anger. But his eyes shone with the wild desperation of someone who had absolutely nothing left to lose—he would have welcomed her blade, and it was a look so familiar that to see it in another shocked the rage right out of her.

He repaid her mercy with a curious devotion, sitting up with her through the coldest, darkest watches and fording paths when their inane quests took them through wilderness where even the smallest plants stood well above Nika's head. Bit by bit, he came to know her history, wheedling it out of her as none of the others had even tried to.

Things weren’t so different between the Carta and the Crows. Antiva's operation was larger and more storied, of course, but both were ruthless and cutthroat to a fault and you were only worth as much as the success of your last job. Nika didn't know many assassins, but she knew how they worked, and nothing builds trust like a mutually assured dagger in the back.

Zevran leaned against a tree and regarded her with a knowing look.

"You are apprehensive about returning to Orzammar."

"Am not."

He huffed, an aborted laugh that fogged the air around his mouth. "Dear Warden, there are at least seven paths that could have gotten us here sooner. And don't tell me you don't know of them," he added, for she'd opened her mouth to do exactly that. "I showed you how to read the map myself."

She rolled her eyes. "And?"

"And I think you should know that you do not need to run off into the woods with your woes." Zevran squatted at her side and tilted her face toward him with a knuckle on her chin. "You do not need to hide from me, chapparita. Not after everything."

"I know it's just..." Nika pursed her lips. "It's stupid. I just need a few moments to get it together."

"If it causes you distress, it cannot possibly be stupid."

"Yes it can," Nika grumped. "I get distressed by stupid things all the time. Rain and wagons. Broken lockpicks. Alistair."

"While amusing, this deflection won't save you." Zevran caught one of her hands and traced the calloused lines of her palm. "What troubles you so about returning home?"

"Home?" Nika scoffed. "Hardly a home. A place of origin, perhaps. But there was too much anger and never enough food to really call it a home."

"But you have family there, yes? Your sister and the young man...Lester?"

Nika's gut twisted. "Leske. And Rica, yes, they're still there. Or at least, I think they are. Some of the rumors coming up from Orzammar make me think there may well be nothing but carnage when we get there."

"Is that what troubles you, then?"

"Mmm not really. The city can tear itself to shreds for all I care, 'slong as Rica and Leske got out."

"Not worried about the city, not really worried about your family." Zevran tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Your reception upon return, then?"

Nika scrunched up her face. She really was quite transparent these days—if Behraht had been able to read her that well, she'd've never been allowed in the Carta, no matter how well Rica cleaned up. She glanced down at her griffon-stamped chestplate and sighed.

"I'm not the same person who left Dust Town," she finally said. "You know—you were there for most of the changing, the struggling, the growing."

"Not too much growing," Zevran teased, waving his hand over her head. She swatted at it and stuck her tongue out at him.

"The thing is, the time and the experience and even being a Warden—it won't matter to the people down there. You can't change your lot in life in Orzammar, so..."

She brought her fingers back to her marked cheek and Zevran’s gaze followed. "Once a brand, always a brand," she said bitterly. "I'm not even sure they'll listen to the treaties, not if I'm the one asking."

In the silence that followed, Nika stewed. She could feel Zevran considering her, but she didn’t want his comfort or his pity. Not when she had to walk back on the way the surface had changed her perspective. Not when she needed to be as cold and cruel as she’d ever been, to survive a return to Orzammar.

Gentle fingers caught her chin once more and this time the pad of Zevran’s thumb ghosted over the raised skin of her brand.

“They know you by this, as you were. But that is not who you are any longer so: have you considered…changing it?”

“How can I? It’s as much a part of me as my nose.”

“You misunderstand. I am not suggesting you attempt to remove it, anymore than I would suggest expunging your history before the Wardens.” Zevran dropped his hand to her shoulder and gently squeezed. “But the rest of you has changed on this venture. Should your face not change as well?”

Nika went very still. Her eyes darted back to the frozen puddle and the stranger reflected there. She imagined dark ink spiraling out around the blocky lines of the brand, weaving in and around the scar tissue, softening the hard border of the burden she’d worn like a prize all her life, just as this journey had softened all of her sharp edges.

In her heart, the idea slotted into place, so right that it immediately drew her out of her anxious melancholy. With eager eyes, she grabbed Zevran by the wrists.

“Can we do it now? Right now?”

A soft, warm smile crinkled the corners of Zevran’s eyes, a hint of wistfulness keeping it from catching at his mouth proper. But it swiftly gave way to his usual grin and he lifted her small frame effortlessly, swinging her onto his back.

“Of course, chapparita. We can begin whenever you like.”

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevran x brosca #zevran x f!warden #fanfic #hurt-comfort #pining #fluff #oc: nika brosca #zevran x nika #dragon age fanfic #dao #zevwarden

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sashimoii · 6 months

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In honour of zevwarden week 2023! here are my unfinished Zevran and surana works from over the last few months (and recently) . They may not be directly related to any of the prompts but currently this is my favourite week ever and I just feel an urge to share

Because I just haven’t really had the time

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevwarden #zevsurana #dao #dragon age #dragonage origins #oc #grey warden #gray warden #naema surana #dao surana #zevran x surana #zevran x warden #they mean a lot to me #like so much

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knyazserebryanyy · 6 months

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I collected all my drawings for ZevWarden Week 2023.

It was the first time I participated in such an event and I want to say thank you to @zevraholics for organizing it. You have given me inspiration and courage❤️❤️❤️

Great respect to the creators who also published their work. You've done a great and cool job!!

And special thanks to all those who followed the challenge, showed interest in the work and give feedback. Your support has been incredibly valuable❤️❤️❤️

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevwarden week #zevwarden #zevran x warden #zevran arainai #zevran #dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age fanart

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gaiah · 6 months

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ZevWarden Week Day 5: Bodies and Minds

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevwarden #zevran #zevran x warden #zevran arainai #zevran x mahariel #zevran x f!warden #edda mahariel #dragon age #dragon age origins #dao #art #fanart #yes i know i always do the same lighting #i can’t help it 😩

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catebeesart · 6 months

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ZevWarden rainbow🌈

I really want to participate in more events like this one! Thank you @zevraholics for organising it!

#so glad you all like it too #zevwarden week 2023 #dragon age #dao #zevran arainai #oc: verena aeducan #beesart #trans zevran #<3 #zevwarden

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zevraholics · 7 months

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ZevWarden Week 2023 runs from November 5 to November 11. Learn more from the pinned post on our blog!

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevran #zevran arainai #dragon age origins

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ghostwise · 6 months

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ZevWarden Week 2023 - Day 3, Fear and Safety

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Fugue :: 350 words tags: dissociation, zevran arainai/male mahariel

The battle of Denerim lasts two days, but in Zevran's mind there exists only one moment from the battle. All else is a blur. Every bruise, every cut. Every shouted command, smoke and ash. But one moment stands against the rest in crystalline clarity; when he thinks about it, his muscles tense, and the hairs on his neck rise, as if he were still living it now.

The Darkspawn have climbed the tower from without and from within. Alistair calls it: they are besieged. They cannot fight their way back down, nor should they try. The Archdemon looms ahead, larger than any mind can conceive of—perhaps it is because its presence far eclipses its physical form.

It emanates some vile magic. Zevran finds that he cannot bear to look at it too long. It shakes him to his core, to the bundle of soul the Maker slipped into his body with a blessing at birth, to the song in his blood. It shakes him.

The others feel it, he is certain. But the Wardens—they are in its mind and its foul blood.

The Moment comes like lightning. In truth, it's only a few seconds' time.

A path to the Archdemon appears as the Darkspawn horde seethes around them. A path no wider than the space left when a body inhales, but Hamal spots it, and its fleeting nature, too. In an instant it'll close up.

Only a few seconds' time. Hamal looks at Zevran, who understands what's happening in that wordless horror of the wounded left staring at the gash.

Many who witnessed the event have described it in poetry and song: the way the Hero of Ferelden charged the Archdemon, the light off his armor, the blood on his face. The glorious victory and the miraculous survival.

But Zevran only remembers that moment when he turns away from him, intent on dying. There is a fugue in his memory from that point on, and until they finally have Hamal in the infirmary, and Wynne tells him that joyous word: alive, alive, alive.

Alive.

Everything else is secondary.

#dao #dragon age #zevwarden week 2023 #zevran arainai #zevran x warden #mahariel #rinnywrites #oc: hamal mahariel #third drabble for the week <3

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