Author's note: My main character is the dwarf noble, though I've been playing on the good path rather than being snotty or racist. I haven't gone to the Frostback Mountains yet, but since there's a cut scene with Alistair before heading into Redcliffe, I only thought it fair that there should be a moment before getting to the mountains to give the party a bit more backstory on the main character. I don't know if I'll add anythig later, but I'll leave myself the option. This is Alistair's point of view, and... I'm really sorry for how bad I am at writing in first person, but I'm trying to force myself to get better at it. Thank you for reading, and reviews are always welcome.

So close, we were so close to finishing the building of our army. The Frostback Mountains stood in front of us, and from there it was onto Orzammar to get the backing of the dwarves. I looked over to Liftrasa, my mouth open to say something, when I noticed she was no longer beside me. We had been walking near the rear, so none of the others noticed that she had stopped... Well none of the people, Rurik had stopped as well, his ears pricked forward, and his head tilted. Great... the dog was more observant than I. It did soothe my pride a bit that the others had not seemed to notice.

Once more I opened my mouth to say something, to ask what was wrong, despite the risk of alerting our companions, but before I could speak, she looked up at me. Those beautiful eyes, more breath-taking than a thousand of the remarkable gems Shale collect, shimmered with tears, and pinned me to the spot. What could I say to that look? She looked... she looked as though her heart had been torn out and then trod upon in front of her. I closed my mouth... Morrigan had always been quick to say doing so was my smartest decision, and maybe taking the bitch's advice this once was a good idea. The sound of paper crackling drew my attention down, and I saw that she was clutching a piece of paper in a shaking hand. My brows drew together for a second before I remember, the dwarf in Denerim. I hadn't been playing much attention to the conversation, because Leliana had been arguing religion with Morrigan again, and I was curious to see if the crazy was going to strike the psycho, or vice versa. The only thing I really remembered was him calling her Lady Aeducan and giving her a shield... To be honest I had forgotten that once she was a noble lady, but I hadn't given it much thought since becoming a Grey Warden meant cutting all ties. Now though... now I wished I'd paid more attention as I looked into the saddest eyes in Thedas.

She was wearing the shield... she had trained so hard to be able to carry it, I remember, and she had given me such a scandalized look when I had suggested letting Sten use it since she couldn't. The shock had turned to anger, and I'd thought she was going to hit me for it. Not one of my finer moments, I admit, and even Sten himself had been angry at the suggestion. He'd said he could no more wear her shield than she could wield his sword. Have I mentioned that I hate it when he's more in tune with the situation than I am?

That's when it struck me... and I felt like a right tit as I remember what Duncan had told me about her. How she had been framed for her older brother's murder by her younger brother, who had then gone on to get her exiled... though it was an exile meant to be an execution. And now here we were, marching right back there. I wracked my brain, trying to think of what to say, when another bolt of brilliance struck me, and I remembered hearing that other dwarf, Gorim I think his name was, say that her father had... oh dear. So not only we were marching, bold as brass back to the place where she had lost her brother, we were also heading back to the place her father had died, and would likely have to deal with her younger brother, if succession worked for them anything like it worked for humans. Well that certainly explained the look, and yet again I tried to say something, though I had no idea what. Luckily, she beat me to it before I could make a fool of myself.

"I loved my brothers," it tore me up to hear her voice so full of pain that it might well have been a Blight all its own, "Both of them!" she clenched her fists harder, and it was only when they stopped shaking that I realized they had been, "I'm not stupid, I knew how dwarven politics worked," she laughed and it was a bitter and brittle sound every bit as heart-rending as her speech, "How could I not, with Gorim constantly encouraging me to have Trian killed each time anyone claimed he was plotting against me? I never believed it, never! Trian was bossy, and he didn't know how to deal with people, but he was a good and honorable man!" she shook her head vehemently, "Not what passes for 'honor' in Orzammar, but truly honorable, like you," I watched helplessly as a tear slid own her cheek, leaving behind a trail in the dust on her face, "He never would have hurt me, because he loved me, and he knew I loved him, despite our bickering. I thought..." her brows drew together, her expression growing yet more heart-broken, a feat I'd not thought possible, "I thought it was the same for Bhelen..." it came out as barely more than a whisper as yet more tears joined the first one. Damn it.

I've been told, multiple times, that I'm not a smart man, and while I'll freely admit that I don't have all the answers, and I do mess up sometimes, I'm not stupid. I didn't even try to say anything to make her feel better, because I wasn't the one with the gilded tongue, she was. So rather than open my mouth and stick my foot in it, I simply walked over to her and drew her into my arms. She was shaking, so I held her tighter, and after a moment, she finally gave in and wrapped her arms around me, hiding her face in my... abdomen. As stupid as it sounds, sometimes I forgot how tiny she really was. She seemed so in control, and the way she carried herself made her seem larger than life sometimes, so was it easy to forget that all that wisdom, dignity, and sheer goodness came in such a small package. Really, she was only just bigger than a child, hell Connor would be taller than her come next year! It was almost impossible to reconcile the image of the Grey Warden with the reality of the woman in my arms...

My mind returned from its wandering when she spoke again, "I have nothing," she whispered into my chainmail, "I had a father and brothers who loved me, and now I don't even exist! Bhelen killed my father as surely as he killed Trian, and now I have to walk back into the place where I lost everything and face him, hat in hand, to plead with him to help us! I..." she shook her head, an angry sob escaping her. I still didn't know what to do, so I stroked her hair and held her silently, inwardly praying. If the Maker had an ounce of compassion he wouldn't have asked this of her... though even I knew He wasn't actually asking anything of her, no one was... she was doing this out of the goodness of her heart to save people not her own, as well as her very betrayers. That made it seem all the more unfair really, because I didn't even have anyone to rail at, or hold responsible.

I don't know how long we stood like that... I don't even know how long our 'conversation,' for lack of a better word, took. I did know that the others had finally noticed that we weren't with them at some point, and had stopped. It was kind of hard not to notice was the lack of sound when Shale stopped moving. Speaking of sounds, someone coughed softly. It was probably Wynne, since it was a discreet, polite cough rather than some heartless bitchy comment, or vulgar innuendo. Liftrasa heard it too, and she quickly released me, moving her hands to my sides, and giving me a gentle push to signal that she wanted me to release her. I did as she wished, letting my arms fall to my sides, though what I really wanted to do was take her face in my hands, and kiss her sadness away... and yes, I know that sounds corny and stupid and is impossible, but that's what I wanted to do.

She wiped her face as she stepped away, and when she looked up at me, I saw the wall come down. That damned wall that blocked off her emotions, that said she was 'Grey Warden' now and no longer 'Liftrasa'. She used it to keep people from realizing that she was a person, that she struggled with decisions, and that she had emotions at all. To be a bastard, thinking about it I could see why her younger brother wanted her out of the way... she would have been a magnificent queen. How many times had we all drawn strength from her tranquility? How many times had we carried our troubles to her, and expected her to solve them for us, or to make us feel better about them? What selfish bastards we were, that we couldn't let her have a moment, just one bloody moment where she could be unsure. Where she could be comforted. Where her troubles could be solved... Maker preserve us, I would've taken on the archdemon by myself if I thought it would've given her that moment.

A flash of compassion moved through her eyes, making me realize how upset I must have looked, and I quickly marshaled my features so she wouldn't feel bad about me feeling bad for her... like some kind of fool repeating image trick done with mirrors. I could still see the tears in her eyes when she spoke, but her voice was as steady and strong as it had ever been. Grey Warden, at your service. "Nothing's getting done standing here," she said and walked past me, her head held high and proud as though she and the woman who had just been in my arms were two entirely different people, "The past is the past, and it's best to leave it there."

I didn't know what to say, but I felt that I had to say something, "Scaaary," I drawled, falling back on humor when I didn't know what to say. When her brows drew together in confusion, I elaborated, "You sound just like Morrigan."

She frowned slightly, "Everyone has different views, and opinions," she said in that very fair, and ever so slightly chiding voice she used when one of was being... stupid and childish, "and sometimes the views of others are correct, even when you do not normally agree with them."

I hated it when she was so unreasonably reasonable like that, and I felt compelled to say something as she walked away from me. "What about your brother?" Alright, so sometimes maybe Morrigan was right about me being an idiot.

She didn't turn around, but she stopped and I saw her square her shoulders, the motion causing the sun to glint off the shield on her back. I could guess her expression by the looks the others were giving her. Wynne looked concerned, and Leliana was shocked and worried, while Morrigan and Zevran wore similar amused, approving smirks, and even Sten was looking at her with some shade of approval on his stoic face. How fierce and determined she must have looked to get those reactions. "My brothers are dead," her voice was so cold... so cold that it burned my heart, "We face a potentially hostile dwarven king, and nothing more." She started walking again, nodding slightly to the others to acknowledge their presence without breaking stride.

I watched, mute and helpless as she walked away. Wynne and Leliana fell back as she passed them, while Morrigan and Zevran flocked to her, horrible ravens alighting on the shoulders of a Witch of the Wilds... Alright, I felt bad about that analogy, but that's really what it looked like. Sten turned smartly and brought up the rear, following behind the group like a guardian demon. I... might have been feeling a bit uncharitable at the moment, I admit. Mostly though... I felt so helpless, and at a loss. "Well," I said to no one in particular, "Looks like the party's been decided for this sojourn."

Rurik whined in sympathy... it was nice to have someone share my melancholy at least.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it... I might continue this later, I dunno... we'll see.