"How come we've never got together?"

Leliana raised her head from where she had been resting it on her crossed arms, eyes bleary from the copious amount of beer she had consumed.

Alistair squinted at her through his own beer-haze. "Well?"

The Bard shook her head, rubbing at her eyes. "No... song."

"No song?" he repeated before sniggering at the absurdity of the statement. He was sure even sober that it would have sounded ridiculous. Well, pretty sure. Just as he was pretty sure that he was pretty drunk. He imagined he was quite a pretty drunk actually.

Leliana frowned, pushing off the table so that she sat up straight. She fixed a glare on the man in front of her. "No song."

"And what does that mean?" The glare sobered him up enough to realise laughing at her was probably not a good idea especially when all three versions of her were glaring at him.

The Bard gave a dramatic sigh then with a wave of her hand, gestured around the tavern to where their various companions had scattered to. "There is little point in a relationship if there is no great tale involved."

"It depends whose tail you're referring to," the Templar muttered into his tankard.

Leliana let out a giggle, swatting at him from across the table. "Not tail. Tale."

"Still sounds like tail to me."

"No Alistair," she shook her head, wobbling slightly in her seat. "Tale as in story. Legend."

"I don't understand," he whined. "What does that matter?"

"I am trying to..." Leliana hiccupped but didn't let it slow her down. "...tell you why it matters! You keep interrupting with talk of tales!"

"Tails," he shook his head.

"That's what I said!"

"No you didn't. You said tales. I didn't say tales, I said tails. They sound different, can't you tell?"

"No they don't!"

"Oh," he wrinkled his nose as his mouth silently formed the words, testing out her theory. "Maybe it's just how I say it."

"Alistair, do you want an answer to your question..." she drew herself up, assuming an air of expertise on the matter. "Or don't you?"

"Yes please," he replied in a sing song voice, gulping down another mouthful of beer.

"Take our Warden and his Witch, for example."

Alistair made a face into his drink. Leliana reached across and grasped his chin, jerking his head up so he would look in the direction of Aedan and Morrigan. "You said you wanted an answer!"

"How does looking at them answer my question about us?" he batted away her hand.

"I am getting to that but you keep interrupting!" she made to sit back down but her impaired balanced meant she landed with a thump. "Ow! That was your fault!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking abashed. He signalled at the inn keeper to bring across two more tankards. "Here, on me."

As the fresh drinks were delivered to the table, Leliana forgave him with what she hoped was a gracious nod of her head.

"It is alright. Now. Will you look at them, please."

Obediently Alistair turned his head in the direction of his fellow Grey Warden. The man was clearly under some spell because there was no other reason why anyone would voluntarily choose to be that close to Morrigan. The Witch had bewitched him. Alistair sniggered again but choked it down at the fresh glare he was sent from Leliana. She was twisted round in her seat, one leg propped underneath her so that she could gesture towards them as she taught him the lesson she apparently had in mind.

"Now there is a t..." she glanced back at Alistair, remembering the tangent that word had caused only moments earlier. "Story."

"You're telling me," he grumbled, rubbing a hand through his hair and blinking as he attempted to maintain focus on the couple.

"The mighty Grey Warden and his Witch of the Wilds. It is poetic, is it not?"

"They don't look like they rhyme to me."

"Alistair, stop being literal."

He screwed his face up, sticking his tongue out at the back of her head. She turned her head, senses prickling. He hastily brought the tankard to his lips, looking at her wide-eyed as if enraptured by her words.

She narrowed her eyes. "Alistair Theirin."

"Leliana..." he began then stopped with a frown, seemingly confused by his brain's refusal to continue the sentence. "Leliana... Leliana, what's your last name again?"

She rolled her eyes although the movement caused her to topple slightly and she had to grip the table to stop falling over completely. Her new position left her facing towards the door where Zevran was otherwise indecently occupied with an attractive young couple. Leliana took a deep breath and pointed towards him as if she had fully intended to continue with her explanation in such a manner.

"And Zevran. The mysterious Antivan Crow who cannot be tamed. Now there is a story to be sung."

Alistair turned his head and eyed the elf with a dismissive shake of his head.

"And Oghren..."

"Oh, come on!"

"It is true," Leliana insisted. "It is impossible for someone that dirty on the outside to not be..."

"No! Stop!" Alistair scrunched his eyes shut before realising he was now at the stage where he needed to see the tankard to be able to guide it to his mouth.

Leliana settled back onto her bench so that she was squarely facing Alistair. She took a swig of her beer. "But you and I," she shook her head. "There is no song to be told."

Alistair pouted, nursing his drink in one hand and drumming his fingers on the table with his other. "That's stupid."

"There are no great songs dedicated to only a man and a woman, Alistair."

"I am not just a man, you know."

Leliana cackled at his indignation, spilling some of her drink as her hand shook. Her amusement vanished as she gave a curse. "Now look what you did!"

"That was your fault. Anyway, it's your round," he stopped nursing his pint and downed it. Once he had gulped back the last drops, he slammed it down on the table and gave her an expectant if unfocused look.

"Very well," she raised her hand in signal towards the bar.

Another set of drinks were dutifully delivered to the table. They sipped at their drinks in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm not just any man. I'm a Grey Warden too," Alistair said at last.

Leliana shook her head. "There cannot be two songs about Grey Wardens."

"You're making this up now! There are plenty of songs about Grey Wardens."

"Name them."

Alistair scowled as she called his bluff. "That's your department, isn't it?"

She took a swill of beer, rolling it round her mouth before swallowing. "Besides his song would be more interesting."

"Hey, my song could be interesting!"

"I do not see how."

"Excuse me? Bastard heir to the throne?"

"Oh Alistair, there is no need to be vulgar," she wrinkled her nose in mock distaste.

He threw his hands up in the air before deciding he would much rather hunch over the table and have his hands near his drink. With one hand cupped round the tankard, he rested his head on the table.

"So that's it, is it?"

"That's it is it what?" Leliana hiccupped, her grasp on the conversation becoming less fixed with each sip she took.

"You've dismissed us out of hand because there's," without lifting his head, he held his hands up and mimed air quotes, " 'no song' ?"

"There is nothing I can do," she shrugged apologetically.

"You're a bloody Bard, there is plenty you could do!" he made to lift his head but decided it was too heavy and let it drop back onto the table. "Ow."

Leliana giggled, spluttering on her latest mouthful. She scooted out of her seat and round to his side of the table. "Let me see."

"No, no. There is no song to it," he slunk away from her towards the wall. "Anyway, it's just a bump."

"Alistair, let me see," she insisted, sliding up the bench nearer him. "It would not be responsible to allow a head bump to go untended. You have been drinking, after all."

"What makes you the responsible one?" he lifted his head enough to shoot her a dirty look.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Would you rather I fetched Aedan to look at it?"

"Woman, it is a bump!"

"Then you won't mind me looking at your bump then, will you?"

Alistair snorted, the side of his face she could see colouring at the thought in his head.

"Oh Alistair, really?" she scolded him, grabbing the collar of his linen shirt and forcing him to choose between either being throttled or having his head examined.

"You started it," he huffed, a petulant scowl darkening his face as he raised his head.

She propped herself up on her leg again, squinting down at his forehead. There was a small red pressure mark from where he had been resting on it but not much more. Leliana leant forward and kissed the mark. She let out a giggle as her already precarious balance gave way and she fell against Alistair, forcing him to catch hold of her before she crashed to the floor and caused her own head injury.

"My hero," she swooned.

"Now that sounds like the stuff of song," he gave her a grin as he turned back to his own drink having ensured she had regained her balance and was at no risk of hurting herself further.

Leliana hiccupped again. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Told you my song could be interesting!" Alistair took another swig, pleased with himself for having proven his point.

Leliana eyed him, aware that he hadn't quite followed the thought through to its natural conclusion. With a wicked glint in her eye, she threw down some coin onto the table to cover the drinks and got her feet.

"Aw, are you going?" he grumbled, attention distracted by the shine of the coin.

"We are going, Alistair." She hauled him off the bench by his ear.

"I haven't finish... Leliana, what are you doing?" he yelped, arm outstretched to try and take the tankard with him.

"To tell a tale of a tail."

"What? A tail..." his voice trailed off as his gaze drifted to the rather attractive tail in front of him. "No, wait... the song... I thought there was 'no song'?" He mimed the air quotes again.

"Oh I'm sure I can work something out," she released his ear so he could stand up fully.

He straightened and blinked. There was a small frown on his face as he tried to work out if they were talking about the same thing. "You're going to work out a song for me?"

Leliana gave a snort of laughter as she pulled him towards the door. "A ditty, perhaps."