There were fewer troops at Ostagar than she had originally anticipated. The correspondence from Duncan had made it sound like all of Thedas would be gathering to launch an assault on the darkspawn and her upper lip curled as her nose wrinkled in disappointment. Well, what they had assembled would have to do and she passed between the rows of tents towards the heart of the fortress.

Crumbling pillars protruded from the damp dying earth and the trodden ground squelched unpleasantly beneath her boots. Soldiers milled about the encampment, paying the elf no mind as she weaved between them in search of the senior Grey Warden. Duncan was the only reason she was there, after all. The woman had no interest in involving herself in the affairs of men and she yawned and rolled her shoulders back.

The man stood silhouetted against the orange glow of the bonfire and she stepped up alongside him as a light drizzle began. How fitting, she thought coolly as her large cerulean eyes shifted to his shadowed face. "Is he here?" She asked and he nodded once and gestured over his shoulder to where a man stood speaking with three others. "New recruits?" She sounded mildly impressed and Duncan nodded again as he finally dragged his dark gaze to meet hers.

"You are getting desperate," she mused and his broad shoulders slumped forward in silent defeat.

"Things are looking more and more grim with each passing day," the low rumble of his voice bled into the clap of thunder that shook the trees around them. "We are facing a Blight and we had tried so hard to−" He cut himself off abruptly as the woman next to him snorted loudly and rolled her eyes back towards the flames. His spine straightened and she ignored the affronted look on his grizzled face.

"There are some things that you cannot control, Grey Warden. I had thought you of all people would have come to understand that by now," her arms folded across her chest and she lowered her chin towards her chest as the thick logs crackled. "Besides, your purpose is to stop this Blight from claiming the world. We are counting on you. Even those that doubt you are counting on you."

"And there are many that doubt us," his voice was sharp and she looked back over her shoulder at the group of new recruits. None of them knew what Hellfire they were about to walk into and she let her arms fall back down to her sides as her attention shifted back to the man beside her.

"How is she?" He asked finally.

"She's doing well," the woman responded. "She sends you her best as well as her gratitude. Although, making him a Grey Warden was a bold move on your part, Duncan," the woman almost sounded amused and there was a subtle lift to her lips as she spoke.

"Conscripting him was better than the alternative," he argued and the woman laughed quietly.

"If that eases your conscience, Warden, then you may continue to tell yourself that," she waved a hand through the air and sighed. "Fiona was not pleased with the news that her son was following in her footsteps. You are just lucky that the boy survived the Joining. Had he died..." She trailed off and shook her head.

"But he didn't," Duncan reminded her coolly and she quirked a brow at him. He was a bold man but she didn't quiver at his booming voice or practiced stoicism the way others often did.

"But he didn't," she agreed with a small inclination of her head. The elf knew when to choose her battles and this was not one she was willing to engage in at the moment. Silence settled between them for a few heartbeats before she brought her hands up and held them out to catch the heat from the flames.

"What is it that you need me to do? I know you did not summon me here just to discuss my personal opinions on your poor decision-making skills," she spoke quietly but firmly and her slender fingers wiggled eagerly.

"Such an astute observation," he mumbled dryly as he clasped his hands together and sighed heavily. She could sense the weight of the burden he carried and her expression softened as she watched him from her peripheral. "I need you to keep an eye on him."

"Aren't you doing that now?" She asked.

Duncan's dark eyes reflected the firelight as he turned to face her directly. He was at least two heads taller and lean with hard muscle that rippled with his movements. The man was an imposing figure and her gaze traveled up the great length of his body to his face. The expression he wore was solemn and she gave him her unwavering attention, dropping all previous hints of sarcasm.

"I am," he said. "But I fear..." Duncan trailed off and steeled himself by taking a deep breath. "I fear that this battle will not go as well as our king hopes it to. If the worst should come to pass, I want to know that he will be looked after. You do not have to engage with him directly. He does not need to know who you are or who sent you. But keep an eye on him from afar. He may be our only hope to end this Blight."

For a moment she was silent and she listened to the beating of her own heart trapped in her chest. Finally, she lowered her hands from the fire and turned to face him. Her chin tilted so that she could meet his gaze squarely. "You say this with such confidence," her brow furrowed in confusion and for the first time since she had met the Warden, she saw him smile.

"My confidence is the only thing that's kept me alive this long," he told her with a soft chuckle.

"If you won't agree to do this for me, then agree to do this for Fiona," he reached for her hand unexpectedly and she gasped in surprise. His hands were rough and worn, but strong and pleasantly warm. She could feel each callous and scar and her eyes darted over to the young man with the golden hair and melodious laughter. He was so young and she closed her eyes.

"I will do this, for both of you," she said after a moment. Her eyes opened and she blinked at him. "I will look after him until this Blight is over and then he will be on his own. That is the best I can offer you."

"It is more than enough," Duncan squeezed her hand between both of his before releasing her and stepping back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ritual to prepare for and new recruits to see to." Relief flooded his features, but he was still tense and his words were curt. His dismissal was abrupt and the woman blinked twice at him in surprise before her expression melted into one of mild amusement. There was a battle on the horizon, after all.

"Of course, Warden." She extended an arm and gestured for him to take his leave of her. She had no reason to keep him from his duties and she turned back to the fire with thin arms folded tightly against her chest and the leather Elven armor that covered her upper body. "I will see you on the battlefield, then. Dareth shiral, Duncan."

The Warden bowed his head in parting and turned. She could see him hesitating from the corner of her eye and the hand that touched her shoulder was lighter than a feather, "Ma serannas, Liranni." It could have been a whisper of the wind or the popping of the firewood, but there was no mistaking the genuine gratitude in his voice and her hand reached up to cover his for a moment before he was pulling away.