She was brooding, and it bothered him. She didn't brood. She hit things when she was angry and laughed when she was happy and when she was sad she - well, she was never sad, in his experience, but he was still sure brooding wasn't the typical response. And yet there she was.

Alistair hooked his thumbs in his belt and stared at her. She was sitting on the ground, absently boring holes into a strip of leather with the tip of her dagger, gazing into the fire without blinking. She had barely spoken to anyone since they left the Temple of Sacred Ashes and he knew for a fact that she hadn't eaten that evening (because he had eaten her share). It was time he did something about it.

"Rowan," he said, coming to stand behind her. She jumped and turned, raising her dagger as she rolled up onto her knees. When she realized it was him, she leaned forward, pressing her free hand to her chest.

"You scared me," she said, getting to her feet. "You should know better than that! I could have stabbed you."

"Sorry," he said. "I was hoping we could… talk… privately for a moment?"

Rowan looked up at him, frowning. "Oh, Alistair, I don't know…"

"Please?" he added quickly, sticking his lower lip out at her. She sighed, slouching as she nodded assent. He grinned and grabbed her hand. "Alright. Come with me."

"Where are we going? Alistair!" she stumbled as he pulled her along, out of camp. He didn't answer, tugging her through the sparse woods and up the mountain side for several meters. Finally, he stopped and waved a dramatic arm at the scene before them.

A trio of broken boulders had created a shallow cave on the mountainside, and Alistair had laid out his blankets and bedroll on the snow-free stone inside. A very small, pitiful fire was flickering away at the mouth of the mini-cave. It wasn't as impressive as he'd wanted, but he didn't have much to work with.

"Behold," he said, turning to her and pressing a hand over his heart. "A home of our very own."

Rowan snorted, grinning at him. "I'm afraid your dreams of becoming an interior designer may be in vain, my dear."

Alistair made a face of despair and she laughed lightly. He pulled her over, ducking his head as he slipped under the overhang and settled down on the blankets. She sat beside him, pulling her wet boots off and leaving them in the snow. He followed suit, although he'd already left damp footprints on the blankets.

"So what's all this for?" she asked.

"I thought you might want to… be alone. Well, not completely alone, 'cause I'm here, but if you wanted to be alone I could leave…"

She held up a hand to stop him, shaking her head. "No. I'm glad you're here."

Alistair smiled at her. She looked away, her expression darkening. "Are you alright, my love? I know… I know that was hard for you, up there…"

"I'm fine," she said quietly."It was hard for all of us."

"But mostly for you," he urged. He, Leliana, and Wynn hadn't had to face a ghost (literally) from their past. He took her hands and squeezed them. "I'm here to listen, if you want to talk about it."

She smiled at him and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his arm. "And Morrigan says you're useless," she teased. He made a face but kept himself from responding, leaving the air open for her if she had something to say. After a long moment, she sighed. "I… I haven't really had time to think about things. About... my family, and all that. The Gauntlet just reminded me of what I've been ignoring."

"It has been a whirlwind of… Maker, it's been… half a year already?"

"More than that, but yes," she said. She pulled away from him and stretched her legs out in front of her, wiggling her toes before the small fire. "I… I told you, about my family?" He nodded. "I was numb the whole way to Ostagar. I couldn't even process it. And once we got there… well, things got out of hand. I guess I haven't really… grieved yet."

She leaned forward and touched her toes, folding neatly in half until her forehead rested on her knees, hiding her face. Alistair sat back, folding his legs tailor-style, hands loose on his knees. When she sat up again, her eyes were bright with tears. "That… spirit. Or illusion, or whatever. That looked like my father… it just reminded me of everything I used to be. I feel like… Like Rowan Cousland is a completely different person from Rowan the Grey Warden. I don't know if I recognize myself anymore." A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away. "Part of me wishes I was still her, still just a noble girl fooling around with daggers and driving her parents mad. But on the other hand… I don't want to give up the person I am now, either. Does that make sense?"

"Yes."

More tears were falling now, despite her efforts to keep them at bay. Her voice creaked and shook as she spoke. "I wonder… what would my parents think of me now? Would they be proud? Orana, my sister-in-law, Maker she'd have a fit if she saw me like this!" She laughed bitterly, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I wish… I wish they could meet you. And Morrigan, and Leliana, and everyone. You… you all feel like my family now, and I wish… I wish…" Sobs overtook her as she broke down completely. Alistair pulled her close and she clung to him, resting her head in his lap as she cried. His eyes prickled sympathetically. Maker, what he would give to grant that wish. To bring her family back for her.

They'd be our family, he thought wistfully, biting the inside of his cheek. If they accepted him, he'd finally have a true family of his own for the first time. Father, mother, brother, sister, nephew… His throat grew tight and he closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that it would come true.

Finally, Rowan's tears slowed and her breathing evened out. She snuffled as she sat up, fishing for her handkerchief. As she mopped her face, she winced at him. "Sorry, Alistair," she said before blowing her nose.

"I did offer to listen," he said. She had left a damp patch on his left pant leg.

"Thank you," she said as she tucked the handkerchief away. Her eyes and nose were red and her voice was nasal and thick, but otherwise she looked like her usual, beautiful self. Baffling.

"I wish I could have met them, too," he said as she lay back down, rolling onto her back and resting her head on his legs again. "They probably wouldn't like me much, though. A no-name bastard trying to steal away their precious little girl?"

Rowan rolled her eyes. "Hardly. They know - knew - that I'm not one to follow the rules. They would have given in, once you gave them the puppy-dog eyes."

"When… when all this is over... We'll find your brother. I promise you," he said. She smiled at him, the corners of her lips trembling. He reached out and she took his hand. She brought it to her mouth and placed several kisses on the back of his hand, across his knuckles, and on his wrist.

"I love you, Alistair," she said, her lips touching his skin as she spoke.

His face felt warm and a smile spread on his lips. "I love you, too. More than anything."

She sat up and scooted back, turning sideways to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his chest. "When this is over, after we find Fergus, we should start our own family," she murmured. "We can have a whole army of babies, to make up for everyone we've lost. I'm sure Leliana will babysit."

Alistair put his arm around her, his smile slowly fading. He didn't want to break that beautiful image, but… "Rowan, you should know. The taint… Grey Wardens don't usually have any children after they've… it's not impossible but with both of us… I mean…"

"Sh," she said, nuzzling his neck. Her face was still sticky from crying. "We can be the first."

He relaxed a bit, enjoying her warmth. "Alright. An army of babies it is."

"And we name the first one Sten."

"What?!"