Emmalene Cousland scouted ahead of the group for a campsite, looking to the west and blinking in the light of the setting sun. The Imperial Highway was hard-traveled, but with the Blight and its Darkspawn, the highway became quite the trial of tribulations. With that, traveling at night was far more treacherous than usual.

She stopped and pulled her map out of her pack. They had left The Circle Tower two weeks prior. She checked the landmarks she had marked on their way to Redcliffe, and placed them at the southeast edge of Lake Calenhad. From there, she surmised they would be able to cut through the woods and meet the West Road only hours away from Redcliffe.

The sight of the lake on the map tugged at her desire for a wash. She walked to the edge of the road, forging her way into the roughage and coming across a small clearing. It was big enough for the five of them to take turns getting some sleep. She knew the others must be tired. She was close to exhaustion herself.

She emerged from the brush to find the others were close to catching up to her. "We'll make camp here," she looked to Alistair, then the others, "it'll be dark soon."

"Alright," Alistair nodded as Emma folded up the map and stuffed it back into her pack. He watched as Emma passed him to claim her spot for the night.

She pulled her pack from her shoulders and let it fall on the ground at her feet. She then unhooked her scabbard, great-ax secured inside, and rested it next to her pack. Her arms lifted up in a stretch as she yawned. Alistair, almost reflexively, continued to gaze on at Emma. Arms still held upward, Emma leaned to each side, favoring her left side slightly as she stretched. She leaned back to crack her back before letting her arms fall to her sides with a sigh. He watched as she bent over and began untying her bedroll from her pack.

"Something interesting, Alistair?" Wynne startled him with her sudden question.

"Uhh, no?" His face reddened at being caught. He turned on Wynne and went to find a spot of his own in camp.

"Hm. I'm sure," Wynne smiled to herself. Her eyes lifted to Emma as she walked to the young woman.

Catching sight of Wynne heading her way, she stopped what she was doing to stand and greet her. "Hi Wynne."

"Hello Emma," Wynne returned her smile, "how is the wound healing?"

"Oh it's much better." Emma began to unbuckle her breast plate.

"I gave you the salve, yes?" the elder woman asked of the medicine she had given Emma.

"Mm-hmm. Once a day, right?" Emma pulled her arms from her armor and set it down next to her feet. "Maker's breath that plate is heavy," she breathed as she pulled up her shirt and chain-mail to show Wynne the wound. It was now a deep, purple scar, having started out as a gaping, bloody cavern in her side.

"You're right," Wynne gave a pleased smile, "it's healing well, and quickly," she leaned in closer to get a better look at it.

Alistair had periodically glanced over in Emma and Wynne's direction after finding a spot to lay his bedroll down. He'd caught sight of Emma's exposed stomach and found his eyes frozen on her. The skin looked pale and fragile, soft to the touch. His thoughts wandered as he looked on at her.

"Alistair?" Leliana's voice seemed to appear out of thin air.

Torn from thought Alistair blinked. His eyes then met Leliana's, and they told him he had without a doubt been caught oogling. "Um, yes, Leliana?" he tried to play it off.

She wasn't fooled. "If you're not careful she'll notice you gawking, you know."

"Gawking? I wasn't gawking. I... Wynne was checking on her and I-"

"I'm not dense, Alistair. I see it, in your eyes, every time you look at her," she placed a gentle hand on his arm.

Realizing how obvious he was set him at unease. "I didn't realize I'd been staring. I was just, looking on as a friend, to see if she was alright," he concluded. Not very convincingly, but concluded none-the-less.

Leliana could see he wasn't ready to admit or talk about his feelings. She retracted her hand and nodded. "Alright." With that, she turned and left.

He was immediately racked with guilt at lying to Leliana. But he didn't want to admit his feelings. He was sure it would cause trouble and unrest amongst his companions. Honestly, he worried Emma would find out, and he'd be the fool.

Despite knowing he'd been caught by both Wynne and Leliana, he looked over again.

"Thank you, Wynne. You did a great job," Emma smiled as she let her shirt and chain-mail fall.

"Tis the least I can do. I am glad you are feeling better."

"Do you need help with your tent?"

"No, I-"

"Please," Emma interjected, "it's the least I can do," she held out her hand to take Wynne's pack.

Wynne handed Emma her pack and watched as the Grey Warden scouted the clearing for a proper place to pitch the mage's tent. Emma found a level-area under one of the larger trees surrounding the clearing. There were a few lower-hanging branches that would suffice for tying up the tent.

"Here alright?" she asked back to Wynne.

She nodded, "Thank you Emma. I'll get some wood and start a fire for dinner."

"Alright." Emma looked over to Alistair as Wynne departed. Emma hadn't spoken to Alistair much that day. She decided to ask him for assistance with Wynne's tent. The tent wasn't difficult to set up, but it was an excuse to see how he was doing.

He saw her coming and immediately busied himself with his pack. He hoped she didn't notice his previous looks at her. "Hey," Emma gave his shoulder a friendly nudge with her elbow.

He did his best to look surprised to see her, "Oh, hey Emma."

"Would you mind helping me get Wynne's tent set up?"

Emma's smile made him smile. "Yeah, of course." He dropped his pack and followed Emma over to the spot she'd picked out for Wynne. He wanted to initiate a conversation, but was reluctant to talk to her at all after being called out by Wynne and Leliana.

"How're you today?" she asked, pulling Alistair from his frantic thoughts, "you've been pretty quiet today."

He met her eyes as she pulled Wynne's canvas and rope to hang it on out of the pack. "I'm fine. A little tired," he shrugged as he chuckled lightly, "but we're all tired, yeah?"

"True," she nodded, tossing him the other end of the rope, "well in any case, if you need to talk, you can always talk to me, Alistair."

He smiled. "I know."

They stretched the rope for Wynne's tent out between them as Emma spoke, "Wynne said my wound was healing up pretty good, thank the Maker. It was killing me."

"Good. It was pretty bad. Is it closed at least?" Even though he'd been staring intently at her and Wynne earlier, he couldn't see the wound in detail then.

"Yes. It's strange, to be healed by magic. I've never had it done before," she disclosed to him.

"You've never been healed by magic?" Alistair was surprised.

"No. Have you?"

"Heh, yeah. Loads of times," he chuckled. "I've broken my left arm... three times?" his eyes lifted as he contemplated the number, "maybe four..."

Emma's jaw dropped. "Three? By the Maker, what did you do?"

Alistair leaned his back against the tree he had tied his end of the rope to and counted each arm break on his fingers. "First time I fell out of a tree as a boy. Second time I fell down the side of a steep cliff. And... yeah, it was four. I broke it twice in Templar training," he nodded, proud at remembering them all. He noticed her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. "Is... that bad?" he asked at her expression.

"Well, yes!" she laughed. "Who breaks their arm four times? I've broken one rib, and that was six weeks ago!" she referred to the healing wound at her side.

"You've never broken a bone before then?"

She shook her head. A sly smile crept across her face as she placed her hands on her hips and faced him. "I am quite graceful in combat, actually," she spoke proudly.

"Ahh yes, hence the gaping hole in your torso," he mocked her with an evil grin.

"Aw. That was low," she frowned.

"Hey, you're the one that got lightning-ed, not me," he raised his hands in defense as he went to grab the tent canvas. She scowled, then eyed a stick next to her foot. With a small smirk she bent down, grabbed the stick and threw it at him. It missed his head, bouncing instead off of his pauldron. "HA! Deflected!" he raised an arm in triumph. He chuckled at the disappointment on her face. "Aw. Your aim will improve over time, don't worry over it."

She couldn't hold back a laugh, "you're such a jerk."

Wynne had been watching from afar. She sighed to herself at the happiness their flirtations brought them. Their obvious like of one another made her wonder at the consequences a relationship between the two could bring. For their sakes and the unknown darkness that awaited them, she hoped it was nothing more.

Alistair and Emma had the weight of the world on their shoulders, the Blight the main source of that weight. Emma was a junior Grey Warden, a new recruit. Alistair was also a junior Grey Warden, Emma's senior by 6 months. They were still very young, Alistair 21 years old and Emma 20. Emma was still experiencing the major side effects of the Joining, the ritual all Grey Warden's endured to sense the Darkspawn. Her new-found mental awareness was nauseating, and the nightmares were mortifying-ly horrid. The only seemingly good thing derived from the Joining was the appetite increase. Every meal was as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. Between her and Alistair, it was a wonder that there was ever any food left for the others.

Wynne smiled to herself at her last thought. She knelt in front of a small pit she had dug for a fire.

Despite their current situation, it made Wynne glad to know their spirits were strong and hopeful. They were the last surviving Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden. All the others, their mentor Duncan included, had perished at the Battle of Ostagar.

Alistair was a great warrior and strong of heart, but was, by choice unknown to everyone, weak in leadership skills. He did all he could to have Emma be the leader of the group. Emma was strong. She possessed a strength many would not expect of a woman. Wynne hated to admit it herself, but she, too, never thought a woman could possess such ferocity and courage as Emma did. Young and fearless. Ignorance did not present itself as an issue for Emma. She had the tenacity to think through every scenario, and never let pride interfere in her decisions.

Wynne's eyes wandered back to Emma and Alistair. Emma's hand covered her mouth as she laughed at something Alistair had said. He couldn't have looked prouder at his success in making her laugh. Their relaxed stances were an obvious sign of how comfortable they were with one another. They definitely trusted each other. A moment like the one they were sharing then was rare, especially in the time of a Blight.

Wynne didn't want to hinder the feelings they may have begun to develop for one another, but there were bigger things in the world coming to a head. The two of them were Ferelden's only hope in defeating the Blight, and any complications that might hinder that goal should be avoided. The Grey Warden's paid greatly in their sacrifice to the people and the land. A life for a life, Wynne solemnly concluded.

She decided she would talk to Emma after dinner. It was for her own good, Wynne tried to reassure herself. She held her hands over the wood she had collected and ignited it with her magic. It would save them an inevitable hurt down the line, she hoped silently.

"This looks good, yeah?" Emma asked Alistair as she pinned down the last corner of Wynne's tent.

He nodded as he wiped his palms on the tops of his thighs, "yup. Nice and cozy."

"Do you need help with yours?" she offered.

"Nah. Go set up your own tent," he playfully waved her away.

"Okay," she shrugged. She wandered over to Wynne first to let her know her tent was ready. "Don't break an arm or anything," she called to him over her shoulder.

"Ha ha," he mock-laughed. As he turned away to gather his tent, he couldn't help the the smile on his face. He loved her company, and was grateful to have it.

Emma stood next to the fire Wynne had started and warmed her hands. "Nice fire. Are you going to make stew?" she asked the mage eagerly, hunger gleaming in her eyes.

Wynne chuckled, "you know, I was just thinking about how you and Alistair could eat us out of house and home," she stood and looked at Emma endearingly.

"It's strange, isn't it, the massive appetite? But I really do feel hungry all of the time," Emma instinctively rubbed her belly, "and you know your stew is amazing, Wynne," the Warden grinned. Her eyes glinted with hope that Wynne would now make stew.

The elder woman sighed and nodded, "for you, I will." She looked around Emma to see her tent was all set up. "Thank you, for setting up camp for me. You didn't have too."

Emma shrugged the complement away, "it's the least I can do for all you've done for me." she nodded respectfully to the mage. There was small moment of comprehended silence before Emma slapped her hands at her sides, "well, I'm going to check out the lake to the north. Would you send for me once dinner is ready?" she asked over her shoulder to Wynne as she left the mage to her duties of stew-preparation.

Before Wynne could answer her Alistair poked out of his newly set up tent, "is dinner ready already?" his excitement at the prospect of eating soon ever apparent in his voice.

Wynne slapped a hand to her forehead, "yes, I'll send for you, Emma," she smirked at Alistair's hopeless boyishness and began preparing dinner.

Alistair watched on at Emma shaking her head as she walked off and at Wynne paying him no mind, "what? Is food ready or not?"