As soon as Jowan left to tend Connor and Arlessa Isolde, Gwyneth turned to their companions. "I must go to Kinloch Hold, the Circle of Magi. They will be able to help us."

Alistair flinched internally when Morrigan and Sten began arguing immediately. The witch was content to just slay anyone in the way while Leliana just looked appalled. The Qunari was so focused on getting to the Archdemon yesterday that he wasn't thinking of the practicalities that Fereldan politics demanded.

"'Tis a waste of time, time which we do not have, Gwyneth, to go to the Circle to save this fool of a boy. He dealt with a demon, he should have to deal with the consequences."

"We need Arl Eamon for this, Morrigan. Killing his heir won't exactly endear us to him."

The witch waved a careless hand. "Blame the twit he wedded himself to. 'Twas she who hired a simpleton to teach her son and led the boy to this."

Gwyn bristled at the insult to the mage, her friend Jowan. Sten leapt in, "Why is this a debate? Slay the boy and let's be on with this. If we depart and he is alive, the undead will just massacre the survivors anyway."

"Only if he is awake." Leliana's voice was firm, "We have all seen it. If the boy is asleep, the demon cannot work its foul magic. I can administer a draught that will keep him unconscious. I can stay here to tend him, when it's close to time for it to wear off, I just put a few drops in his mouth, rub his throat to make him swallow, et voila."

Starting to pace, Gwyn chewed at her thumbnail. "That could work. What do you think, Alistair?"

He startled, and swallowed down nerves as four pairs of eyes turned to him. He knew Redcliffe the best, and Gwyn needed his honest input. "At least one of us would need to stay here. Leliana could show the Arlessa how to administer the draught so she has to take responsibility, and she knows we're not poisoning Connor. The person who stays behind would ensure that she administered more on time until we returned. We have to try, at least. Even if we aren't able to free Connor from the demon, we would be able to show that we did everything in our power to help. When Arl Eamon wakes, even if Connor is… dead… he wouldn't be upset if we did everything we could to save him."

She had her back to Morrigan, Sten, and Leliana, and only he got to see the look of relief that crossed Gwyn's face. With a nod, she turned back to their party. "I agree with Alistair. Morrigan, I would like for you to stay here."

Morrigan's face darkened, and she opened her mouth to speak. Gwyn held up a hand, "You are a mage, Morrigan. You will be able to tell if the demon is attempting to purge the draught from Connor and take action if we are not back yet. Maker willing, you can drum some sense into the Arlessa's head. If we don't make it in time, do what must be done. I- I would prefer that Lady Isolde be the one to actually do the deed, though."

A winged black brow rose at that. "Indeed? And why so?"

"Actions have consequences. Lady Isolde's selfishness has destroyed many of Redcliffe's families. She must take responsibility and if Connor must die, she should do it so she can feel the consequences of what she has done." Alistair's gut twisted. It was fair. Harsh, bordering on cruel, but fair.

Sten grunted, "This is a waste of time."

Gwyn drew herself up to full height, still barely to the Qunari's solar plexus and marched up to him, jabbing a finger into his breastplate. "The last Archdemon took twelve years and all the nations of Thedas to defeat. Do you really think I can just march up to Urthemiel, stick a sword in him, and be done with it in time for supper, Sten? I am making my choice here and now, and I will not be swayed. Do what you must, but we need the mages and Redcliffe, as many people as possible to delay the Archdemon, depose the traitor Teyrn, and allow forces from the other Grey Warden contingents to come into Ferelden."

Sten loomed over her, purple eyes full of disapproval, but he grunted, "I concede the point, Warden."

Alistair blew out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Leliana, Morrigan, go fetch the Arlessa and get to work on the sedative. Hero-" the mabari woofed an acknowledgement, "Stay with Connor and come fetch me if he starts to wake."

A sharp bark in response, and Hero nosed the door open to trot down the hall.

"Sten, I need for you to fill our packs and get horses from Bann Teagan. The faster we can get to Kinloch, the better, and going on foot is not an efficient use of time in that regard."

With a last grunt and a nod of his head, Sten left the room. Gwyn collapsed into a chair, hand pressed to her chest. "Sweet Andraste, I think my heart is going to pound its way out of my chest."

"Thank you, Gwyn, for doing this for Connor. I'm no fan of the Arlessa, but he shouldn't pay for her mistakes." Alistair felt tongue-tied, unable to say more and make sure she understood just how much it meant to him.

Large green eyes turned up to meet his. "It's not just that, Alistair. I don't want an innocent child's blood on my hands if I can help it. Any alternative we can find is worth investigating. Also… it's a chance for us mages to show how much good we can do. I spent so many years hearing that I was cursed, destined to be an abomination, worthless because of my magic. We need to slay Urthemiel and save Connor for all the other mages fighting that."

Anger boiled in his chest as she looked down at her slim, delicate hands as they twisted with anxiety in her lap. He hadn't known many girls in his life, but the determination and sheer goodness of this one made him want to find every Templar and Chantry mother that had made her feel worthless and give them a thrashing they'd never forget.

He watched the way her long ears drooped with exhaustion. "Have you slept, Gwyn?"

"I tried, but couldn't. After fighting off the undead, and all this," She covered her eyes with a trembling hand, "We have to leave as soon as possible, there's no time for sleep."

"You're pretty light, and I was taught how to ride at the monastery. I can hold you in my lap so you can try to sleep while we're on the first leg."

"What about you, Alistair? Have you slept?"

"Ah, I can get a knight's saddle. Between the plate armor and the way the saddle is shaped, as long as I lash my legs to it appropriately, I can sleep sitting up while you're on your horse and you can hold its lead."

She smiled, that smile that always set off a storm of butterflies in his stomach and stole his breath away. "You know, you have amazing ideas. Are you sure you don't want to lead?"

"What?! No! I told you it's a bad idea, and I don't want to end up lost without pants!"

"There has to be a story behind that," Gwyn giggled.

"I'll tell it to you sometime, if you promise to sleep."

She poked out a pinky, and he stuck his out to link with hers. "I promise, Alistair. Just don't drop me."

"I would never!"