Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Dragon Age. Bioware does, so please don't sue me. There are a few conversations that are taken directly from the game (and I know that all fangirls will know which ones), but it makes for a better sense of being in character. That and David Gaider and the Bioware writing staff are totally epic. The transcript of Brother Genitivi's work is also not my own... belongs to Bioware as well. This takes place a few days after the first story in the series "Neither of Us Can See." It is slowly progressing into more action and original situations. Please review and I would be more than happy to do the same! Happy reading - much love! :-)

Month: Molioris, Day 2
9:30 Dragon

You would think that a trip to Denerim would mean a night where camping out under the stars was not a prerequisite. Yet with Loghain now in power, the capital is not a safe place for Grey Wardens. Today was our first day at the settlement and we already found our fair share of trouble… not all exactly unsolicited. One example was Ser Landry – a veteran solider who was at Ostagar and blamed the Grey Wardens for the king's death. He actually wanted to duel… I thought that stuff only happened in the stories I read. I never expected that a highly qualified solider would challenge a teyrn's daughter – but then I remembered that my title had changed. As much as the prospect of entering my first official – I guess one could say "honorable" – duel seemed invigorating, we had more important issues that needed tending to. Using some quick thinking, I was able to talk him down – able to convince him that maybe the Grey Wardens were not as guilty as he thought.

Yet the whole incident resonated in me for the rest of the day. For weeks, I have been invoking the name "Grey Warden" like it is something I am comfortable being… as if it is something I truly understand. My whole knowledge of the order comes from what little Duncan told me on the trip from Highever to Ostagar and my talks with Alistair. But when the senior member of the order in Ferelden has a tenure of only seven months, the information received was basic at best. I still like to ask him about his experiences prior to Ostagar, however. His eyes light up when he recalls the brotherhood that he and the fellow wardens shared. And his lips curl slightly upward and… let's just say, I wouldn't trade those personal talks for any tactical information he may be withholding (which I doubt is much).

And it seems as if our travels have led to someone who can help my craving for knowledge. The Chantry monk whom we were sent to find – Brother Genitivi – seems to be quite the scholar. I figured that all of his research would be dedicated to Andraste or the Maker… but I was happily mistaken. His work actually looks quite intriguing and I pilfered a few texts from his collection. Haven't been able to speak to him directly yet… just an imposter assistant, his actual one having been slain before we arrived. Seems like Loghain is at work again – not wanting the urn's whereabouts to be discovered. His involvement hasn't been confirmed, but it sure does reek of his stench. Anyway, we were able to procure Genitivi's notes on the urn and they show that he was headed to a settlement in the southern Ferelden chain of Frostback Mountains called Haven. Never heard of it… none of my companions have either. That doesn't inspire much confidence in this mission – and it is one that we cannot fail.

We are planning on spending one more day in the capital before heading west. It is sure to be a long journey and we need to make sure that we are fully stocked. Didn't get much of that done today… at least I didn't. Alistair and I went to visit his sister. Let's just say it wasn't the warm and fuzzy reunion I knew he was hoping for. I had been apprehensive that seeing the two siblings together would make me envious of times past with Fergus. Yet Alistair wanted me there with him so I relented and accompanied him. The relationship with my brother could at times be tense, but what Alistair found was not anything resembling a familial bond. Goldanna was nothing more than a money-grubbing bitch. He still made a vow to help her and her family which was not reciprocated with graciousness.

He was quite shaken up after we left. I was happy that we only took Serenity on that little venture. There would be no smart remark from Morrigan; no salacious offer of "comforting" from Zevran. Instead, I tried to impart to him that there were others who cared for him. He didn't need Goldanna to have a family. I thought by giving him his mother's amulet that Arl Eamon had saved would have convinced him of that. But that sentiment didn't seem to stick. Maybe it is the fact that that relationship is still unfounded. With the arl being ill, he might not want to hope for something that will never come to be. He brought up Duncan, and how with his death, he had lost all of those who cared for him.

Now, I knew that it had been a few days since our discussion at our campsite near the destroyed Lothering. I knew that we hadn't exactly spoken much since then, but still…

My quill stilled. I didn't know where to go from there. The rose that Alistair had given me that night at camp caught my eye. It had been quite some time since he had picked it that when he offered it to me, the petals were slightly shriveled. It still held all of its beauty however – something that I wished I could preserve forever. Like all living things, it would continually wither (it was already essentially "dead" since it was pulled from its life source). I had some skill in floral pressing, a talent that Nan had passed on to me during my youth. At the time, it was just a simple craft to get me out of her hair. Just thinking of everyone at the castle… I knew I couldn't dwell on it, just like Alistair couldn't keep harboring so much regret over Duncan's death.

I lightly rubbed my finger across the delicately pressed petals as the flower was now serving as a page marker in my journal. I knew Alistair wouldn't mind. I think he would take pleasure in the fact that I looked upon it so often. At least, I hoped he would. I knew that I had been apprehensive to say the least about considering him as anything more than a friend. But if these weeks had taught me anything, it was that I needed to start living for myself. I knew that I had a role to play in the saving of Ferelden… the ending of this Blight. Yet that didn't mean I should give up living my own life, and I wouldn't.

It was just hard to define where Alistair and I stood. I was thinking that maybe we had moved past friendly and onto something a little more romantic. Maybe I was wrong, and it wasn't like I was about to come out and ask. No matter how much forwardness I was able to muster in our playful banter, I was just as bashful as he could be. My blushing cheeks could rival his ears any day. He never called me on it though – caught up in his own awkwardness (that no matter what he said was quite cute). I smiled just thinking about it… one of the only bright spots of this whole experience.

"Tess… are you busy?"

I looked away from the blood red petals and searched out my companion. The smile on my lips only grew wider as I surveyed the man standing near me. No armor to shield my eyes from his muscular form, just light fabric which clung to him in places like a second skin. I knew the color in my face was going to betray my calm demeanor so I quickly let my gaze meet his own (not like that helped much). I shook my head in reply to his question and shimmied over on the boulder I was sitting on.

Since Denerim was settled right at the base of Dragon's Peak, the whole surrounding area was quite rock-strewn and unstable. Finding a place to camp that was safe as well as sturdy was quite a feat in itself. No one wanted to travel far away from the settlement and thus we were subjected to a rather interesting situation. All of the tents were squished adjacent to each other on the only level land we could find. Morrigan was none too happy, but considering she was one of the most vocal against more travel, she was quick to comply. We were able to construct the nightly fire in the middle of a few fallen stones which served as makeshift benches. It didn't make for the most aesthetically pleasing camp, but it suited us fine.

"What's on your mind?" I asked, as he got situated a few inches from me on our shared stony perch. "You have been awfully quiet since we left Denerim."

"Just a lot on my mind, I guess," he said with a small forced chuckle. His expression was slightly sullen, contemplative even. I hoped that his sister was no longer on his mind, but I knew that was wishful thinking. "I appreciate that you brought me to see my sister, and that you… well that you were there to talk me down after we left."

He sighed and looked away from me, down toward his lap. His gaze never made it that far. It stopped at the open book in my grasp. I saw a small smile make its way to his lips. It was obvious that he noticed his gift and I was happy for the joy it seemed to bring. His focus shifted back up to me and I noticed that happiness could be found in his hazel irises.

"You are a true friend," he said softly. "I just… I just wanted to tell you that."

He stumbled over his final statement. It was as if there was more he wanted to say but chose against it. His smile had slightly faltered and tone grew unsteady. He had no reason to hide anything from me, but I knew it could be due to my less than always accommodating nature. For all that I had learned about his past, I had not been forthcoming with much about my youth. We talked briefly about my upbringing, my family, Highever… but considering how long we had been in each other's company, he knew very little about Theresa.

"We're in this together, Alistair," I said tenderly, at which his smile finally returned.

"That we are," he remarked confidently. "I've got your back, you know that right?"

"For how much time you spend staring at it, I would certainly hope so… even though I am sure the direction of your gaze is a little lower, my friend."

I knew Alistair was not the only Grey Warden who turned a slight shade of pink at Zevran's comment. We both looked over at our elven companion as he joined us near the fire. Sitting on a flanking stone, he chuckled slightly at our communal state of embarrassment. Luckily, we were spared from any further discomfort as Leliana bounded over to the campfire with Serenity in tow.

"All clean," Leliana stated, taking a spot next to Zevran.

Both she and Wynne spent some time trying to scrub Serenity clean of all the gore and grime that a war hound will accumulate over the course of the day. Even though today was a pretty tame affair, it was enough for Wynne to insist on giving my mabari a cleaning. I don't exactly know how Leliana got dragged into the chore, but it didn't seem like it was truly forced.

"I'll never understand you Fereldens and your dogs," Zevran commented, and I knew both Alistair and I were grateful that the conversation had shifted from the previous topic. Yet before I could respond, Leliana interjected.

"Speaking of which, how did Serenity get her name? It seems, well… quite an odd name for a mabari."

"I've been wondering that myself."

My attention turned to the newcomer. Sten came to stand next to our group and his cold stare fell upon me. I knew that he had found Serenity a fitting mabari specimen; a warrior that he had no qualms about fighting alongside in battle. It could even be surmised that she was his favorite member of the group. He had yet to really open up to me about anything from his past and all I knew of the qunari was from my childhood teachings (meaning not much).

"I didn't know there was so much interest," I remarked with a chuckle. His gaze did not soften. "Well, I never exactly had the intention of her ever being in battle. If my parents had their way, I would have been in the castle in Highever for my whole life. She was given to me as a birthday present six years ago – one of the pups from a few of my father's own hounds. My brother had a mabari when he was younger, but gave him away when he married."

"Is that part of Ferelden tradition as well?" Zevran asked jokingly. "A trading of companions so to speak?"

"No, it was more because his wife Oriana didn't exactly like Slash," I recalled. The dog never left the castle as he was imprinted to Fergus, but he was taken care of by a servant. "Maybe it is an Antivan thing."

"Ah, she was from Antiva," he stated with a gleam in his eye. "I doubt it is an inherent trait between Antivans. Just stems from different customs."

"I was just kidding," I mused. "But I am sure there are more differences than just dogs between Antiva and Ferelden. From living with her for the past few years, I gathered that women aren't exactly known as soldiers."

"That is not just an Antivan custom," Sten boomed. I was well aware of his wariness about women as fighters. But before I could respond, he continued. "You have become distracted from the original question by speaking of your family."

I flinched slightly, not because of his cool tone or his bluntness. I had just realized that what I was speaking of was nothing I could ever return to. Sure, the castle could be restored and I had yet to give up hope that Fergus was still alive. But there was so much that could never be repaired. My face fell, but I knew that I had to continue. I didn't want to seem too weak, especially in front of Sten. That wouldn't help me gain any approval from the brusque qunari.

"I took her name from one of my favorite fairytales growing up," I said softly. "It seemed like a nice name for her at the time."

"Maybe for a lesser breed, but not a mabari," he asserted, before stalking back toward his tent. I sighed as I watched his retreating form. So much for approval…

"I think it's cute," Leliana said with a smile, obviously trying to pick up the ever dampening mood. She peered over at my open book and giggled. "What's that?"

"Huh?" I looked down and saw the rose lying in plain sight. I chuckled nervously as I shut the book. It was a little late for that. "It's my journal. Just keeping tabs on our day to day adventures… trying to keep myself sane."

She raised her brow at my obvious evasion of the question. I could tell by her stare that we would be having a little girl talk session at some point in the near future. I also knew that that would have to wait until certain members of our current party were out of earshot.

"Really?" Zevran purred. "Now that would be quite the read."

"None of you will ever have that pleasure," I remarked with a laugh. "Even if I fall in battle, I will personally come back from the Fade and haunt you if you do."

"That scandalous, huh?" the elf stated with a smirk. I shot him a slight glare as I placed the book on the ground. I picked up the other text I had lying there and turned to Alistair, who had been silent since the others arrived. If he wasn't sitting so close, I wouldn't have believed he was still present.

"This is one of the books I took from the brother's place," I said, handing it to him. "Talks about the Grey Wardens and the First Blight."

"Tales of the Destruction of Thedas," he read from the title page. "Sounds cheery."

He flipped through a few of the yellowed pages and I scooted closer to him so I could see as well. When our bodies came in slight contact, his motion stalled and I felt him flinch. Okay, maybe he was a little more bashful than I…

"I'd like to hear some of it," Leliana said, breaking me from my thoughts.

"I thought you knew of the First Blight," I posed. "You told me the tale you heard yourself."

"Yes, that is true, but it couldn't hurt to hear some more on the subject," she offered with a smile. "Especially with all we are dealing with now. It may inspire some confidence."

"Alistair, you want to do the honors?" I asked, turning to him once more. He looked up from the pages and smiled timidly.

"Ah, stories of heroic death and destruction," Zevran commented. "I'm game."

"Well, alright," Alistair relented nervously. "But where do I start?"

I leaned in even closer and flipped through some more of the pages. I had already skimmed through the contents and knew that the First Blight discussion was near the middle before the discussion of the Chantry. I flipped past much of the description of the beginning of the Blight until the Grey Wardens appeared. Leaning back, I stayed pressed against his shoulder as he began to read.

"The dwarves faced far greater hordes than the humans as the darkspawn challenged them for control of the underground," he read. The words began to float away and I just listened to his voice. He really had such an eloquent, beautiful voice. I could get lost in it in a second's notice. "Despite the might and technology the dwarves brought to bear, the savage darkspawn tore through them, first destroying the more remote thaigs before swallowing up entire kingdoms. Think of it: an entire civilization lost in the space of decades."

"Is this really supposed to make us more confident?" Zevran interrupted, and I had to agree with him. I knew that what the dwarves faced daily in the Deep Roads was not pleasant, but still…

"It has to get better," Leliana imparted. "Keep going, Alistair."

"Compared to the near-genocide that the dwarves faced, what we humans call the First Blight must have seemed a mere skirmish to them. Against the darkspawn, the dwarven lands have always taken on the brunt of the fighting and the majority of the sacrifices. Four dwarven kingdoms finally managed to combine their might and fight back, and that cooperation saved them."

"What's this? A tale to get you all warm and cozy before bed?"

I looked over as Morrigan joined us. Alistair pulled his gaze from the page in front of him and glared at the mage. This was one relationship that I doubted would ever change.

"We're just learning about the first Grey Wardens," I said with a smile. "Not that warm and cozy so far."

"There is no need to learn about the past," she scoffed. "As you can clearly see, this situation is not like that of the First Blight. Besides, I doubt this learning will help you deal with the oncoming civil war. There are no similarities from those days and the present."

"From what I know of the Deep Roads, it sounds pretty close so far," I stated gently.

Morrigan and I did not have the best of relationships either. I think it stemmed from the fact that I genuinely valued Alistair's opinion and company. That and neither of us could truly understand each other's lifestyles. I grew up a noblewoman; she a Witch of the Wilds. Just because of that, there tended to be many clashes in personality. I did want to find a way to get closer to her, but hadn't found it yet.

"Don't let me stop you," she sighed, as she actually sat down across from us on the other side of the fire. Now, that was a rare occurrence. She never joined us in a communal campfire activity. Maybe, she was trying to become closer to the group. "I just don't see the true value you are seeking."

"But for the rest of their lands it was too late," Alistair continued, but not before shooting the apostate one final glare. "The darkspawn had taken the Deep Roads, the majestic underground passages that linked the dwarven lands throughout Thedas. The darkspawn could now attack anywhere on the surface through these tunnels."

"So that's how they do it," I mused softly to myself.

Maybe I had been told before, but I couldn't recall. I knew that they had to come from somewhere and not just spawn in the soil. All of my current companions shot me looks, as if it was common knowledge. And I was supposed to be their leader? I didn't believe that this boded well for the rest of the journey.

"Humanity simply was not prepared for an onslaught such as this," he read, saving me from any further shame. "It was clear that the warfare we knew would not avail us. We had to find a new way to fight. Thus came our salvation: The Grey Wardens were born."

"Salvation – quite a reputation to live up to," Morrigan jeered pointedly, directed at the man next to me.

I watched as he gazed upon her with loathing in his eyes. No matter how many times I brought them together with me into battle, hoping some sense of camaraderie would spring up, it just wasn't to be. She loved to play with him, goad him into arguments if she could. He was starting to reciprocate that action. It might have made for some amusing banter, but it also meant that there was a division in the ranks. Any good leader knew that that wasn't a good thing. Ostagar could be proof enough of that. It was nowhere near that serious, but I hoped that it could progress into something more productive.

"Is there something you wanted, Morrigan?" he asked, voice dripping with acidic scorn. "Or did you just decide to come and torture us with your presence?"

"Nothing really, but now that you mention it," she started mockingly. I shared a glance with both Leliana and Zevran who seemed to be bracing for another battle of words between the two comrades. After all Alistair went through with Goldanna, I wasn't sure if he could handle it. "We seem to be going quite out of our way to revive this Arl Eamon."

"We need his help," Alistair said firmly, not backing down from her glare across the flickering flames. "What choice did we have?"

"Well surely, there must be another option than searching out a holy relic the existence of which is not even certain," she continued, a small smirk making her way across her lips. It was because she could see Alistair was becoming defensive. "This is a rather thin hope to hang our success upon."

"Arl Eamon didn't seem to think so."

"This is the same man who lacked even moderate awareness of anything that occurred within his own castle," she said nonchalantly, which I could see irked Alistair even more. He stood, book clenched tight in his grasp as he peered at her across the flame.

"You don't know anything about him so don't judge him," he attested confidently. I was proud that he was standing up himself and his beliefs, even if it was just at Morrigan's expense. Yet as soon as the words left his lips, his demeanor became more morose. All of the confidence seemed to wither with the heat of the flame. "I think it's our best hope."

"To succeed against the darkspawn or save your ailing father figure?" she posed with a grin. I sighed… nope, this relationship would never change.

"Enough!" he snapped, throwing the book to the ground and retreating toward his tent. "Just drop it."

"Well, someone sure is a little testy tonight," Morrigan stated. I just shook my head and gathered both of the texts.

"I guess we'll finish the story some other time," I offered to my other two companions before heading off in Alistair's direction.

"I can tell you how it ends," Morrigan continued as I departed. "The Grey Wardens won the battle, but the war still rages on to this day. Nothing in that book can aid you. You may just find false hope to cling to. Great sacrifices will have to be made before this is over – ones that I hope you will be ready to make."

I turned back to her in confusion. She sounded as if… as if she knew something that she was not letting on. She regarded me with a stony yet confident gaze, one that I could not return. I wasn't ready to think about the end. It barely felt like we had truly begun. I shrugged it off and continued my trek to his tent.

"Alistair… you mind if I come in?" I whispered.

Our tents were not that large, but could fit a few people comfortably in them. Not like I had ever been inside his tent… thought about it, never witnessed it. Leliana and I spent a few nights talking, though and we fit comfortably enough. She was a bard after all and I was a sucker for a good tale.

"Come in?" he squeaked out. He popped his head outside of the fabric and stared at me with his mouth slightly agape. "You mean come in… or come in? Because you know that I have never done anything…"

"No, no!" I exclaimed quickly, realizing that he thought I was insinuating more than I actually was. "I just wanted to talk and… see if you were okay. I'm sorry about the whole Morrigan th…"

"No need for you to apologize, dear lady," he replied with a genuine smile. "I already knew she was a bitch. It truly was nothing new."

"Yeah, I guess," I stated awkwardly, scuffing my boot on the ground. He just continued to stare at me from his position and I stood waiting for him to answer my initial question. We must have spent no more than a few seconds that way, but it felt like ages. He chuckled and pushed back the flap to his tent.

"You know, even though this visit is completely innocent in nature, that isn't going to stop the gossiping fiends that make up our party," he joked as I crawled my way into his lodging. I went as far as could into the structure before sitting cross-legged in front of him.

"Let them talk," I said grinning while he settled into a comfortable sitting position. "I don't care."

"Just remember that tomorrow," he said with a laugh. "So… you wanted to talk? Usually, it is I who comes to you in that pursuit."

"Yes, I know. For all of the grief I gave you over hiding your birthright from me, I guess I haven't been that open about my past either," I whispered, nervously thumbing both of the texts in my hands. "I mean, it's not like I have some big secret... like my father was the king…"

" – which would just be creepy considering present circumstances," he joked. I shot him a faux glare, which just made his laughter continue. The sound warmed my heart. "Having you as a sister was not really the type of relationship I had in mind."

"Oh? You've been thinking about our relationship?" I posed playfully.

"Maybe," he responded coyly yet with a grin beyond measure. "I actually… had a question I wanted to ask?"

"Go ahead."

"So all this time we've spent together, the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us," he began in his normal witty yet still sincere tone. "Will you miss it once it's over?"

I didn't exactly know what he was trying to get at with his question. What would I miss? Fighting darkspawn… that was something I was looking forward to forgetting. Even though with the taint running through my blood stream, I knew that that would be next to impossible. I decided to just answer in jest. It had become a failsafe for both of us in conversations.

"It makes me tear up just thinking about it."

We both laughed, but I saw his face turn more sober. He looked away from me and at the flickering flame of the small candle in his lantern. Did I say something wrong? How could I have? I was just kidding. He had to have known that, but he just stared off. Finally, when he spoke, it was in a much more reserved tone.

"They'll be no more running for our lives. No more darkspawn," he stated wistfully, as if he was hoping that that future was not far off. I couldn't blame him. He turned to me with a small grin. "Ugh, and no more camping in the middle of nowhere."

"Yes, this is one aspect of our travels I am sure not to miss," I replied. "From castles to campfires… never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here. Well, maybe in my wildest ones, but the way my father coddled me, I…"

The words died in my mouth. This was not getting any easier no matter how hard I tried. I knew the man across from me knew it just as well. We both were truly two of a kind in many ways.

"He was a good man, Tess," he whispered soothingly, repeating the words I had told him about Duncan after his passing. Even though Alistair had never met my father, I knew that what he said was a true. I nodded my head and looked to him with a small smile.

"Yes, he was. A good man who did not deserve his fate," I said, harkening back to his own sentiment about our fallen leader. He smiled upon hearing his words come from my lips and it lifted my spirits. "But this isn't about my father... you asked me a question. Did you get the answer you desired?"

"Not exactly," he stated. "But I am not sure if now is a good time to continue, honestly."

"That bad, huh?" I joked, but he remained serious.

"Not bad – at least, I don't think it is," he said, before contemplating his next course of action. He sighed, closed his eyes, and when they opened once more, he looked at me through tender irises. "I know it might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to… care for you – a great deal."

That wasn't what I was expecting. It was quite a pleasant surprise, but before I could think of interjecting, he was speaking anew.

"I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it," he replied, his confidence in his words falling with every syllable. I guess my past behavior toward him wasn't all that inspiring. "Maybe I'm fooling myself. Am I… fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?"

His expression did not waver from tenderness as he waited for a reply. I could see some apprehension in his eyes and it actually raised my spirits. All this time I was worried about if I had put him off or if I was misreading signs. And from the looks of it, it seemed that he felt the same way.

"I think I already do," I admitted with a smile.

Tenderness was replaced with a sultry leer that made me quite weak. Good thing I was seated. At that one admission, my companion's demeanor had grown much more self-assured and assertive. He crawled the short distance between us, our faces only a few inches apart.

"So I fooled you, did I?" he mused playfully, leaning in so our lips were barely separated. My eyes became half lidded as he brought one hand to rest on the back of my head. "Good to know."

He leaned in the very short distance and our lips met. My eyes fell shut. My arms wrapped around him, dropping the two books they still held to the ground without a second thought, pulling him even closer. The kiss began slightly tense, neither of us really knowing how far we wanted to proceed. I knew about his lack of romantic experiences, and my only time ever in the company of the other sex was at formal functions. Sure, there was some chaste flirting and a few pecks here and there, but never a true emotional attachment.

Rigidness flowed into a much softer embrace, the feeling flowing through my being. Our lips softened as well, sending shivers down the length of my spine. So this was what it felt like… Before the kiss could truly deepen to something more fervent, Alistair pulled back – just slightly, but enough for his lips to relinquish their hold on my own.

"That… that wasn't too soon, was it?" he posed cautiously, while my eyes fluttered open.

"I don't know. I need more testing to be sure," I answered playfully, running my hand down his side affectionately. He grinned and pressed his forehead to mine.

"Well, I'll have to arrange that then, won't I?" he mischievously countered, bringing his hand around to push a few stray strands of hair from my face.

I wanted so bad to kiss him once more. I wanted to learn every contour of his mouth, every line on his lips. I craved to taste him; something I knew would have me intoxicated from the first sampling. It was amazing how quickly one can become enthralled in such passion. And all from my first real kiss… the first kiss that ever meant anything in my nineteen years of life.

The need became too great and I turned my face slightly to be at a better angle to catch his lips in a kiss. There was no hesitation this time. The few seconds we had spent before with our lips just pressed together was only a precursor of what was to come. My eyes closed once more as I concentrated on my feelings… concentrated on pouring all I felt into our lover's embrace. I tried to memorize the feel of his lips on mine – they were deceptively soft. One would think with the lifestyle we led, they would be chapped or hardened. I hoped he could say the same about mine.

We pulled away from each other moments later. I knew from gossip around the castle that our current situation was rather tame in regards on sensuality. Regardless, those kisses were filled with more passion than I had ever experienced, more than I ever hoped to experience. It was as if my own fairytale was happening before my very eyes.

"Maker's breath, but you're beautiful," he whispered, our eyes locked in a loving stare. "I am a lucky man."

"So am I… well, the lucky part anyway – not so much the man," I said awkwardly.

He just chuckled and pulled me to him. I fell into an embrace that I never wanted to let go of, but knew that I must. Alistair was right: there would be talk amongst the other campers about this visit. It didn't bother me, but I did have to try and have an air of professionalism as the leader of this ragtag bunch of warriors. That was already slightly compromised by my lack of any true war experience and the fact that I had never lived outside of my family's castle. I was learning quickly, gaining more confidence and strength everyday… Who cares what others say as long as I'm happy? And I was happy… for the first time since I tearfully bid farewell to my parents, the smile on my lips made it to my eyes. I felt content. My mind was finally slightly at ease.

I felt at home – safe, confident, and most importantly: loved.