Disclaimer: Bioware owns all places and characters except the lovely Vivenka

Alistair was waiting for her when she returned to the room they had shared in the Arl's estate. She had anticipated this, had even requested her things be moved to a different room the moment they returned from the Landsmeet. With a sigh, she closed the door behind her, and stood before her former lover. This was going to hurt. But their very public argument in the Landsmeet had changed things. He was glaring at her, folding his arms across his chest as he began to speak.

"After everything he did, everything we went through, you made him one of us! After he left our order to die, us included, you not only let him live, you made him a brother! He deserved to die! How can you possibly forgive his crimes?" Alistair's voice seemed to rise a little more with every sentence, as his sense of injustice gained momentum. No doubt there was more to his tirade, but Vivenka had reached the end of her rope. He wanted an explanation, and it was high time he got it. She cut him off, and as she spoke her voice was thick with years of bitterness and resentment at the injustices she had witnessed and endured.

"I grew up in the meanest, most dangerous and cut-throat part of Orzammer imaginable. I've known casteless who willingly joined the Legion, to fight darkspawn til death, just to escape Dust Town. I watched noblemen beat beggars in the street for sport, saw women toss babies into the lava for the sole crime of being born the wrong sodding sex!" her voice was rising, she knew, but she wouldn't, couldn't hold back. He had to know. "I watched my mother, night after night, day after day, whore herself out then drink herself into oblivion to escape the reality of it all." Alistair's jaw was still set, his mouth a hard line, but his eyes were softening, giving him away. She took a deep breath, and continued.

"And through all this, taking care of me, making sure I could eat, was Rica. In the foul darkness and rot of Dust Town, she always had a smile for me, a word of encouragement. She always had hope. She would spare coppers to the beggars only a little worse off than us. She would carry mother home and put her to bed when she passed out in the street. At the age of 7, she used her own body to shield me when one of mother's men tried to beat me. He was not the last. Even when...even when Beraht pushed her to be a whore, she was strong, proud. She didn't let Dust Town break her, like it did Mother and so many others." Her voice was cracked with emotion, but she held her head high and looked him dead in the eye, as she finally gave her explanation.

"You asked me, Alistair, how I could possibly forgive Loghain. The simple truth is, I understand why he did what he did. He did it for Fereldan. He loves this land like I love Rica. And we would rather see them dead and free, than broken in chains." With that, she turned on her heel and strode from the room, slamming the door behind her.

In the corridor outside, she leaned against the wall, forehead pressed against the cool stone, not trusting her legs to support her. She had said things in that room she hadn't even realized were true. She understood the sacrifices one was willing to make for love. A part of her tried to shy away from the truth of her final words, but she knew in her heart they were true. She would make the killing blow herself if it saved Rica from becoming like Mother. The very notion chilled her heart.

"Warden."

Her head snapped to the left at the sound of his voice. The rogue in her had known he was there, but the storm taking place within her head had distracted her. She felt sure he had been in the hall the entire time, and had most likely heard her impromptu monologue.

"You're awake." she observed, her voice carefully neutral.

"Yes," Came the rueful reply. "The mage, Wynne, sent me to you the moment I awoke. Some nonsense about there being more to the joining." Vivenka tried not to smirk at the dryness of his tone. She pushed aside the sense of loss she felt over Alistair. It was done, and no amount of moping would change that. She was a warden, and her duty, if nothing else, was a welcome distraction. Straightening, she beckoned for Loghain to follow her as she spoke.

"It is tradition that some of the blood we drink-" she paused as she entered her new chambers, her eyes searching for the charm."- is placed within a pendant" Ah, there it was on the vanity. " It is a token to remind us of those who came before us, and the sacrifices we must all make to defend against the Blight." She handed him the simple amulet. His face was unreadable, and she wondered if he wanted to throw it against the wall, as she had. To her, it had been yet another reminder of her failure to stay with Rica, to keep her safe. In that moment, the small, unassuming necklace had felt like the heaviest of chains, binding her to the darkspawn. She could not imagine how that little necklace might appear to Loghain.

He surprised her by muttering " At least its small." before tucking it into a pocket beneath his plate. Icy blue eyes met cool silver ones, as they both took a moment to really see each other. For over a year, Loghain had seen the flaming haired rogue as the ultimate symbol of her order, undermining and undoing every effort he made to protect his beloved homeland. She had been a constant thorn in his side, and he had fully expected her to cut him down without mercy. In truth, the thought of giving up the burden he had shouldered, to let someone else worry about the safety of a nation, had been rather attractive. The weight of his past decisions had weighed heavy on him.

But she had surprised him, not only by letting him live, but by shouldering his burden for him. As a warden, he had been both stripped of his power and responsibility. He stilled cared for Fereldan, but now he would protect her as a warden, defending her from the Blight. By accepting his place as general, all his previous responsibilities had fallen to her. His respect for her, already substantial after the Landsmeet, had only grown exponentially upon overhearing her earlier tirade. Many of the things he had seen and suffered at the hands of the Orlesians, she similarly experienced from her own kinsman.

"Of all the things I thought find, understanding was not one of them." he said softly, breaking the silence. She continued to study him with those calculating silver eyes that shone with wisdom beyond her 23 years. A smile tugged at her plum lips, and he couldn't help but notice how pretty a smile it was.

"And I never thought I'd get the Hero of River Dane on my side. Grey wardens are just full of surprises." The tension broken, Vivenka turned to dig an afterthought out of her pack. Clutching a thick leather cylinder to her chest, she jerked her head at the door as she strolled out, not waiting to see if he followed. She led him to the empty library, where she carefully set down her load, before removing one of the rolls of parchment from within. A quick glance told her it wasn't the one she wanted, and as she pulled out the second, she noticed Loghain staring, fascinated, at the map she had placed on the table.

"It's the Deep Roads." she supplied.

"I am aware of that," came the droll reply." I do, in fact, have this exact copy. I'm curious, who made these additions?" he asked, gesturing to the newly inked paths to Cadash Thaig.

"I did. I had plenty of blank vellum, so I recorded the path as we went." he was looking at her strangely. "What? I wasn't about to ink in the path on my good maps until I was certain I had it right. Why are you looking at me like that?" she felt strangely defensive, and a blush had crept into her cheeks.

"You grew up underground, in a city you could not leave, and yet you are a talented amateur cartographer." she felt her cheeks redden further.

"I've always loved maps. They made the world outside Dusttown seem more real." Loghain simply nodded, and continued to study the map. Shaking her head to clear it, she pulled out the map she wanted, the one of occupied Fereldan.

"What is all this for" he asked, frowning. She grinned at him.

"You're going to teach me to be a general, Warden Loghain, by showing me how you learned the art of war yourself."