Bending double, she stretched, fingers curling round her toes. She could feel him watching her from across the practice yard, tried not to let him see her stiffen. Slowly she straightened, rolling her head between her shoulders.

But it was too late. Already Nathaniel had set his bow aside, closing the distance with a crooked smirk. "Barely enough armor for the men and you're outfitting a dummy?"

Reikha sighed, adjusting the breastplate that she had strapped round the straw man. Setting the battered helmet atop the pike, she stepped back to admire the effect. "And I suppose we'll be fighting the darkspawn in their smallclothes, will we?"

He chuckled at that, lifting one of her daggers from the ground. Rolling it between his fingers, he tested the weight, seeming not to notice as she flinched. "Or maybe you just have to have the prettiest target in the yard."

"Different armor types have different weaknesses. Know them and your job becomes that much easier."

With a shrug, he flicked the dagger into the air. She caught it easily.

"I've been told I have some skill with a blade." His eyes narrowed, holding her gaze. "Perhaps you could give me a demonstration?"

So dark those brows, pulling dangerously low. Despite his apparent change of heart, she could still feel the weighing wonder behind that stare. A human was a human and it was not so long go that this one had wanted her dead.

Still she could hear it, an echo of that whispered chuckle. Ahh, but if you killed all your enemies, you would have no friends left.

Shivering, she turned away. It didn't seem so funny anymore. "Fine. Come here."

Dropping the blade into his palm, she positioned herself behind him, watching his features settle, the grim focus returning. His was certainly a face made for scowling. And yet there was almost a hint of a smile as she moved closer, stretching to slip an arm behind his.

"Bloody big humans."

"My apologies."

Reikha shook her head. "Now, plate may seem the most formidable protection, but there are weaknesses here that mail and leather do not have." She guided the blade, slipping it between the joints of the shoulder.

He nodded. "Simple enough."

"But the better craftsmen will have accounted for this." She withdrew their hands slowly, felt the blade catch on the metal. "Strike once and you could just as quickly be disarmed." Wiggling it free, she angled it along the length of the seam, dragging in a slow and shallow cut. "A slice will be unexpected. The wound may not be deep, but with a strong enough poison it may well be enough.

"Ah. The dwarf had said that you were trained as an assassin."

She could feel her fingers clench, pulled her hand away from his. "With an assassin. An Antivan Crow."

"With the Crows?" He arched a brow. "Most impressive."

"A Crow. Just the one."

Again his eyes narrowed curiously, turning to watch her over his shoulder.

"'Ey! Commander!"

She whirled, startled at the interruption. Certainly not relieved. Oghren tottered atop the steps to the keep, a bemused Anders folding his arms beside him. The dwarf seemed to have appropriated a set of the mage's robes, lifting the oversized folds by the fistful as he made his way down the stairs. As she watched, he stumbled, tumbling end over end to land splayed in the dirt.

Still Nathaniel stood close, his chuckle warm against her hair.

She moved quick to help the dwarf to his feet, but Anders reached him first. "See? Told you."

"Shuddup." Puffing beneath his whiskers, Oghren grinned up at her. "Whatcha think, Commander? Figured the way this nug-humper goes on about 'em, we might all try wearin' skirts. More comfy than I thought, I'll give 'em that." With a snorting chuckle, he lifted the robes higher still.

Reikha smirked, averting her eyes. "Well, that answers that question."

"This is why they don't let dwaves be mages." Anders sighed.

"Anders, get him cleaned up."

"Why me?"

"And Oghren. Pants."

He gave a clumsy salute, punctuating it with a resounding belch.

Moving back toward the dummy, Reikha shook her head. The hope of Ferelden. She smiled. Picking up the second dagger, she positioned herself, taking a long breath. There was focus here, a strange sort of peace, but through it all that emptiness, that vague sense of loss. Their numbers were growing and still she was alone.

"Here. Perhaps this will work better. Since I'm so… ungainly."

She gasped as Nathaniel slipped behind her, hand falling over hers to mirror her movements. The dagger slipped from her fingers as she spun.

"Apologies, Commander. I thought we were—"

"—No, I…" She scooped up the blade, blinking to see the other still in his hand.

With a wondering shake of his head he followed her gaze, spinning it round to offer her the hilt. There was a smirk there as she took it, but still his eyes were cold.

"I—"

"—Will continue training with the bow." His bow was shallow, little more than a nod, proud despite the deference. She had seen its like before, felt her teeth clench at the memory.

"…Good." Shaking herself, she nodded. "Good."

Bowed he remained, watching her go from beneath lowered bows.

"I want to talk about Zevran."

Reikha stiffened, fingers tightening round the quill as her eyes pinched shut. After a long moment she pushed the ledger cross the desk, sinking back in her chair.

Nathaniel moved round, drawing up a second chair. He paused, taking a moment to survey the room with a whispered snort. "I like what you've done with the place."

Slowly she opened her eyes, shaking her head. "I've done nothing."

"Exactly." There was almost a smile there as he sat, resting an elbow on the desk. "But the office is yours now. Amaranthine is yours."

"You think I don't know that?" Snappish, true, but her glare was for the accursed ledger.

"And yet you don't seem to want it."

"Bitter?"

"Yes." He held her gaze for a long moment, those deep-set eyes almost softening. "But I understand it. I could not have imagined it when you recruited me but… the Wardens are doing good here. You are doing good."

"Yeah. Thanks." She dropped the quill in the well, slamming shut the book.

"I mean it." He leaned low, catching her eye before settling back in the chair. So right he looked, born for this office. Treason or no, this place had been made for his kind.

He was watching her still. "You have given me a chance to redeem my family's name. That is no small gift."

"You're welcome."

He nodded, leaning forward with an almost imperceptible smirk. "Now. About your Crow."

"What about him?"

"Well for one, it seems that I'm the last in the keep to know that you are married."

"I'm not."

He quirked a brow at that, fingers straying toward her ear, to the gemmed ring dangling there. They hesitated, curling away as he sat back.

"It's… complicated." Reikha sighed. "How did you find out?"

"Anders."

She had to chuckle for his scowl. "Did you think that maybe I told Anders for a reason? Let him down quick, as it were." Busying herself with the papers, she smiled. "You may want to give him an excuse yourself."

"Very funny."

"And the Commander's personal life is a topic of debate, is it?"

It was his turn to smile, drumming his fingers on the thick-carved arm of the chair. "People will talk. It comes with the position."

"Great."

"Particularly if one is… courting an assassin. It seems our commander has dangerous tastes."

"If that were true, I'd have taken up with a human." The words slipped free before she could stop them.

"Oh?" His brows pulled low. "Interesting."

"Just… in my experience." She dared an upward glance.

"First we are too big and now we are dangerous." He nodded, but she found herself unable to read his expression. "Perhaps I should be grateful that you spared my life at all."

"It was—"

"—Most people would not hesitate to kill a man that had sought their life."

"Maybe I'm not most people."

"So I hear." Something twitched behind his scowl. "And your Antivan Crow. Where is he?"

"Antiva."

"Ah."

"He had… business there."

"More important than our own? Than yours?"

Reikha's head snapped up with a glare. "Speaking of business…"

"It is none of mine." He help up a forestalling hand. "I only thought you might… like to talk. It's no small burden that you carry."

"So what? You'll advise me? Think I can't handle it? Because I wasn't born to it like you? Because I'm just an elf?"

"I did not say that." The whisper was flat, hard. With a shake of his head, he came to his feet, striding for the door. "You are doing well, Commander." He smirked. "Plus, after a few pints I can get all I need out of the dwarf."

"Why do you care?" She spun in her chair, but the door was already closing behind him.

Slipping into the dining hall, Reikha sank back against the wall. Another night with the maps. Not enough troops to go around, not enough stone for the wall, not enough coin. It was never enough. She had missed the evening meal by hours, but the cooks had learned by now to leave a plate warming for her. Sigrun had visited her some time ago to return a book, had mentioned some sort of contest between Anders and Oghren. It seemed she had missed the fun as well, though by the smell of it it must have been quite the sight.

The hall was empty save for the lone figure sitting at the last of the long tables. Nathaniel glanced up at her approach, turning his mug between his hands.

She hadn't been avoiding him, not really. Their numbers had just grown so much these past few weeks.

"Commander." Again that nod, his eyes returning to the mug before they could see her hesitate.

With a sigh, Reikha sank onto the bench beside him. There were still various cups scattered cross the table. Pulling one close, she took an experimental sip. Bitter, tepid, but at least it was wet.

"Here." Nathaniel took the mug from her, pouring the remaining contents onto the floor before refilling it from the bottle.

She quirked a brow at the mess. "You're drunk."

"Apologies."

Reikha took the cup, wrinkling her nose as she looked to the tiles. Someone had certainly lost the bet, but she turned away before she could venture a guess. "I don't think it matters."

He chuckled.

"Where's everyone else?"

"I left Anders in the bathhouse. Oghren was gone when I returned."

"Are they alright?"

"So it would seem." Nathaniel shrugged. "Though I still say that pissing yourself is cheating."

Reikha found herself scooting along the bench, running a fearful hand beneath her.

"You're safe."

"And you? You're alright?"

"Well enough." He took another long pull.

Reikha pulled her own mug close. It was cooler but still bitter, still tart. But it would do. They sat in silence for a time, the warmth growing welcome in her belly, the hunger forgotten if not truly sated. It would be worse in the long run she knew, but at the moment she did not care.

"Why do you hate humans?"

She blinked, for a moment thinking she had imagined the words. "I… don't."

"I've heard you are close to the king. So you cannot think us all bad."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "He's harmless."

"See? That. 'Harmless.'" He turned, sitting sideways on the bench to look at her. "Meaning you've been harmed."

Her hand twitched unbidden, nearly topping the mug over the table's edge. He caught it with ease.

"I visited an alienage once." The darkness round his eyes seemed to deepen, holding to hers. "I do not envy you."

"Yeah. Thanks." She snatched up the cup, draining it in a single pull.

Nathaniel hesitated before breaking that gaze, pouring her another glass.

"It was my wedding day."

He glanced up in surprise. "You said you were not married."

"This was before. I had a wedding. But I was never married."

"What happened?"

Snorting, she shook her head. "There were rapists. We got the wrong cake. It was a disaster."

He was watching her, silent still.

"Humans. A noble and his friends. They… interrupted. Took us… the women back to his estate." She scowled. "I… they beat me, but that was all. I was one of the lucky ones."

Nathaniel regarded her for a long moment. "And then?"

"I killed them." She raised her eyes. "I killed them all. That's why I had to flee, why I joined the Grey Wardens."

"I see."

"That's it? 'You see?'"

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"Nothing about the pride of the order? About how your grandfather would react to see a murdering elf made Commander?"

"I was going to apologize, actually." There was a roughness behind his whisper. "I'm not exactly one to cast stones when it comes to the Warden's recruitment criteria."

"So pity then? Thanks a lot."

He had slipped close, she realized, his hand falling over hers. "Who was he? This man?"

"Right. You all seem to know each other, don't you?" She pulled her hand away. "Bann Urien. Vaughan Urien, the Arl of Denerim's son."

His eyes barely flickered.

"You did know him."

"Yes. I did. But it was long ago."

Taking a measured sip, Reikha watched him over the rim of her mug. "Did you… like him?"

"Would you hate me if I said that I did? But we were little more than boys."

"You killed a man who had wronged you." He took a careful pull of his own. "I may not like it, but I have come to understand its necessity. I trust your judgment."

"That's… strange."

"So I thought. But I have seen it proven true."

Again her mug was empty. Blinking down at it, she felt herself sway. Too much, too fast. She should know better. The taste turned her stomach but it was warm instead of cold, something to dull the ache, the emptiness. "Maybe you shouldn't."

That scowl twitched, twisting into something of a smirk. "Perhaps. Your opinion of humans, for one. We are not all so bad."

"That so?" She felt the bile rising in her throat, swelling behind a laugh.

He caught her as she stumbled, her hand curling round his shoulder as she fell against his chest.

"Commander…"

Grip tightening, she pushed herself up to meet his eyes. "Prove me wrong."

Falling back against the bed she gasped, fingers tangling in his tunic to draw him down. Again her lips found the roughness of his chin, the angles too bluff, too broad, the new-grown hair scraping against her cheek.

His knee braced beside her hip, looming over her now, moving with her as she slid back across the blankets. It raced along her spine, that panicked energy. So large he was and she pinned beneath him, unable to read the narrowed focus of those eyes. It was a look she recognized, but still she could not turn away. Her shoulders butted against the headboard now. Well and truly trapped.

Nathaniel hesitated, sitting back on his heels.

"No." She rose to meet him, eyes pinching shut as she again found that too-wide mouth, his tongue probing thick and rough and insistent.

Her hands roamed low, drawing the tunic up and over his head, his chuckle muffled as he shifted to help. She held him there, palm pressed against his chest as he leaned away. He smirked, following her eyes.

So broad he was, the sinew thicker than she had expected. Human. And there was hair there, dark and curling and spreading cross his chest. It was soft, so stark against his pale skin, the contrast severe, accusing.

He seemed about to speak, but her fingers twisted in that hair, drawing a sharp gasp. Yet this time he fell low, chin resting between her breasts, gaze darkening as he trailed kisses toward her belly. His breath was warm, sensations stirring near-forgotten.

When his hands curled round her belt, she shivered, raising her hips to help him slip the breeches free. Her eyes fell closed, fingers stroking his hair, so long now but soft as she remembered. Sighing deep, Reikha smiled.

Ahh… il gusto di voi… tale dolcezza…

But those kisses were shifting, changing. Too rough, too strange. He wasn't here, couldn't be here. Not for this.

She opened her eyes, found only Nathaniel looking up at her, watching still. So large, so pale, so human. Human. Twisting her fingers in his hair, she drew him upward.

He blinked. "We can stop if—"

Again she tugged, again she brought a hiss of pain. "No. Just don't do… that."

"Commander?"

Reikha pressed close, teeth nipping at his ear. "Don't be nice."

She had waited until she heard his breaths deepen, the first whispered snores rumbling against her back. Removing his arm from her waist she swung her legs off of the bed, grimacing for the pain. Maker's breath…

They had not bothered with the lamps, but it was his chamber, or so she guessed. She had half expected to feel the ale still, the nausea, the first echoes of pain behind her eyes. But there was nothing. Nothing. She did not sway as she bent to retrieve her breeches, found her steps steady as she slipped through the door. So much for excuses.

"Commander."

The light of the hall was dim, but there was no mistaking that voice, his boots surprisingly soft as he stepped from the shadows.

Reikha found herself pressing back against the door, as if she could hide the room behind her. "Oghren."

"That Howe's room?"

She sighed.

"I know I ain't one to talk, Commander..." His eyes narrowed, features settling into a sternness she had not seen before.

"That's right. You're not. So don't."

"It ain't right."

"And why not?" She straightened, glaring down at him.

"You're smarter'n that, girl. You know why."

"You don't even like Zevran."

"Heh. He's alright. For an elf."

"But you don't think he's doing the same thing?" She could hear her voice rising. "It's Antiva. You know, Antiva. You've heard the stories; you know what he did there."

"Yeh? And he went back for you. To set things right."

Now, now the sickness threatened. "Months. Months and not even a letter! Not a single blighted word!"

"So?"

"So? So he's…" She staggered, bracing a hand against the wall as she buried her face in her palm. "What if… what if he doesn't come back?" It stung behind her eyes, the realization finally given voice. She had half expected Oghren to lay a hand on her back, offer some sort of comfort, but when she raised her eyes the dwarf had not moved.

"He'd burn that soddin' city to the ground to get back to you. If ya don't know that…" He turned with a shake of his head, making his way back down the hall.

"This from you? From you?"

Oghren glanced over his shoulder, snorting beneath his breath. "Heh. I'm a no good sword who couldn't even keep his wife on the pikes, who took a death pact to get away from the second one. Never said I was anythin' more."

She watched him go, sagging back against the wall. Sliding to the floor, Reikha buried her head against her knees.