A Final Mercy
First, let me say that this is AU to my other works! This does not actually happen!
Sometimes, you just get an idea and it won't leave you alone until you get it out. That's where this comes from.
Consider everything in my Fort Drakon story up through Day Ten to have happened. The rescue as Keiran sees it in that chapter either never happened or was just a hallucination. Take your pick.
It's rather rough around the edges because I just wanted to get the idea out of my head. I really have no interest in polishing it up, but thought I'd share what I have instead of letting it languish on my hard drive like all the other oneshots I have lying around. Maybe it'll make someone else cry like I did while writing it.
Warnings: Character death
---------------
Zevran paced back and forth outside Keiran's room. He'd rather be inside, but Wynne and Morrigan had thrown everyone out to tend to their badly injured leader. Alistair had been trying to catch his eye for the last half hour, and he purposefully avoided the ex-Templar's gaze. Doing so would mean acknowledging what they had seen, and Zevran didn't want to face or accept it.
He would never forget the sound of his lover's screams echoing through the halls of Fort Drakon as he and Alistair desperately tried to find him.
He would never forget the sight of Keiran's bloody, broken body lying stretched out on the rack.
He would never forget the madness in Keiran's eyes. The Warden hadn't been able to recognize his lover or his best friend when they found him. When he spoke, it was just the incoherent ramblings of a madman.
Zevran stopped pacing and pressed his back into the wall across from the door. He reached under his armor and removed the necklace Keiran had given him. It was made up of hundreds of small wooden beads carved into deer, hawks, wolves, and rabbits. Keiran had told him it once belonged to his mother, and it was the only thing he had from either of his parents.
He squeezed the necklace in one hand and held it to his chest. He could feel the others' stares on him, but he didn't care. Zevran was not the type to pray very often, but he had held this necklace and prayed every night since Keiran's capture that they would be able to rescue him and he would be okay. He had prayed to the Maker and to Keiran's Dalish gods, but it seemed that neither had been listening to his pleas.
Eighteen days. Keiran had been in there eighteen days before they had been able to rescue him. Every plan they came up with, no matter how simple or complex, had failed. From the third day Zevran had insisted they investigate the Alienage, find the families of the people they had found in Arl Howe's estate, then call the Landsmeet and use all their evidence to take down Loghain, but that bastard Arl Eamon had refused, had insisted they needed to rescue the Warden first.
The door slowly opened. Everyone's focus immediately went to Wynne.
She shook her head sadly. “His mind is gone. There's nothing we can do.” She looked into Zevran's eyes, and for the first time, hers were filled with sympathy instead of thinly veiled disdain. “I'm sorry.”
Zevran's blood turned to ice in his veins. “I... I want to see him.”
“I'm not sure that's wise,” Wynne said, but Zevran had already brushed past her and Morrigan and shut the door. He put the necklace back on and turned the key in the lock before walking to the bed.
Keiran was awake. His glazed eyes darted wildly around the room, never settling for more than a few seconds on anything. His broken body twitched constantly, and he was muttering something Zevran couldn't understand.
Zevran was immediately reminded of Ruck, the dwarf they had discovered in Ortan Thaig. He had insisted on putting the poor dwarf out of his misery, and Keiran had reluctantly done so.
Zevran sat on the edge of the bed and took one of Keiran's hands in his own. “Mi amora, can you hear me?”
It was useless. Keiran didn't seem to notice his hand was being held or that he was being spoken to. He just continued his mad ramblings.
As he stared at Keiran, Zevran felt a horrible pain in his chest. He remembered feeling the same thing when Rinna died but not as strongly. He hadn't known what it meant then, but he knew now.
The one he loved was gone, and his heart was breaking.
Zevran's vision wavered. He brought his other hand to his face and was surprised at the wetness there. When had he started crying?
They had both known one or both of them could die along the way, either via darkspawn, bandits, dragons, or any other number of things. But this... this was a fate worse than death. Zevran knew that Keiran would not want to live like this.
Zevran drew the dagger that Keiran had bought him, the Rose's Thorn. He recalled how Keiran had smiled at him when he gave him the dagger, and he remembered the odd feeling in his chest. In hindsight, he saw that, without meaning for it to happen, he had been falling in love with the Warden even then.
Fate was a cruel whore indeed. A few days before Keiran had surrendered to protect the rest of them he had finally admitted his feelings to Keiran. He had given him the earring as a proposal. He finally realized he was in love.
I intend to see this through to the end with you. After all, someone must be responsible for preventing your untimely death.
His words rang in his head, mocking him. Zevran hadn't been able to save Keiran's mind, but he could show him the mercy he had not been able to show Rinna, even if it meant going against his earlier vow.
He put the dagger on the bed and gently caressed Keiran's face. He leaned over and kissed him one final time. “Farewell, Keiran,” he said, his voice trembling. “I... I love you. I wish... I could have told you when you were able to understand.”
Zevran grabbed the Rose's Thorn once more and drove the blade into Keiran's heart. The Warden cried out, but gave no other sign that he realized he'd been stabbed.
And for the second time, Zevran watched the one he loved bleed to death.
He hadn't cried when he watched Rinna die, but he cried now. He squeezed Keiran's hand as his life bled away and he cried. He cried for the proud, strong Dalish hunter that he had fallen in love with and their future together that would never come to pass.
The short time it took for Keiran to die seemed like an eternity, but soon enough, the Warden grew still and breathed his last. Zevran closed Keiran's eyes and pulled the dagger from his chest. He didn't bother sheathing the dagger, or even wiping it clean. Zevran gave Keiran's hand one last squeeze, then stood and headed towards the door. When he got there, he hesitated and took one last look at his beloved's body.
Remember this, Zevran. This is what happens to those you get close to. This is what happens to those you love.
“Never again,” he vowed as he unlocked the door.