xXXXx

13 Drakonis 9:41 Dragon

Skyhold: Day of arrival

As the Inquisitor walked through the great double doors, her weary eyes wandered to her elven companion, who halted with her. "This place needs a lot of work."

Solas only nodded, his mouth turning up at the corner, hinting at a smirk. "Would you prefer we return to Haven?"

She sighed at the poor attempt to veil his sarcasm. "Fair point."

Rays of morning sun shone into the dark main hall of Skyhold, and Gwen Trevelyan knelt to pick up a damp rock with her gloved hands. Thumbing the mossy surface, she tossed it into a large pile of rubble. Shaking her head, her dark hair curtained her face for a moment before she brushed it behind her ear and looked up to a hole in the roof.

"Dwarves will be useful for repairs. We'll need to get in contact with masons and roofers too."

"Indeed." Solas intoned.

The Inquisitor rose to her feet, walking toward her fellow mage who stood in silhouette against the sunlight. On her way, she pulled her journal from the pack hanging over her shoulder, and tapped it against her thigh. "I should write this down, but my advisors will most likely have additional input; I'm going to find them."

He turned a questioning eye toward her. "Do you require my services as a guide for the day?"

Gwen smiled. "Go rest. Perhaps tonight we can review my notes, if you don't mind."

"As always, Herald... pardon me, it's Inquisitor now." The mage smiled, turning to face his cohort as she stood in profile.

"Yes—that's what they're calling me." The woman nearly whispered, her eyes caught on the newly placed, waving flag with the Inquisition insignia on it, positioned high on the battlements across the courtyard below. "It still feels strange, leading these people… months ago I was a criminal, then a religious icon, now this…"

Solas listened as she trailed off, saying nothing, his arms held behind his back in his usual posture.

Her wide, sage-green eyes lost focus and fluttered closed. "I'm happy to lead them, of course." Gwen shook her head and forced a smile.

Solas moved further into the main hall, stepping carefully around the debris on the floor. Gwen's eyes turned away from the light of day and followed his movements.

His lips thinned into an understanding smile. "I believe in you, and many more share my belief, or were you ignorant of the triumphant cries during your inauguration?"

Gwen flashed the elf a humble smile.

"I plan to settle in for the rest of the day, perhaps explore the keep, but you may come to me tonight if you wish it and as I said, I promise a full review of the day's events for your codices."

"Where will you be?"

Solas raised his hand to point to one of the doors leading away from the main hall. "Behind that door, lies a rotunda; there is a library on the second floor, an aerie on the third. Apart from that, I shall make the first floor my own."

Gwen's eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted in interest. Her voice came soft, laden with childlike curiosity. "Wait, a library?"

Solas chuckled warmly. "Yes, a well-stocked one at that."

Her green eyes dropped to the floor and she took a retreating step into the sunlight. Bracing her arm against the large door frame, she paused. "If only I had the time to peruse it."

"Perhaps in the days to come. There is much to discover here and should you need anything, you now know where I will be found." Solas' calm voice came from behind her, but she didn't turn.

"Someday you must tell me how you found this place."

He stepped forward to stand beside her again, looking out across the expanse of the fortress before answering quietly. "Perhaps."

.

16 Drakonis 9:41 Dragon

Skyhold: Day Three

With a slight skip in his step, Varric ascended the stairs to the battlements. The Inquisitor followed slowly, her curiosity sated as she laid eyes on the man before her: The Champion of Kirkwall and rumored pain in the ass, Hawke.

"This is her?" The rogue Hawke looked her up and down critically, and pushed himself up from the balustrade.

"Be nice. She's here to help." Varric gritted his teeth and tensed.

"How so? I thought the information I have is meant to help her."

"The rumors are true, then: you are an ass." Gwen narrowed her eyes at Hawke.

The man glowered and ran a gloved hand over his long black hair, partially tied to keep the strands from falling into his face. Narrow eyes sought Varric. "We have a contact, our friend, he's… got information about your Corypheus."

"Tell me more." Gwen pulled a journal from the bag slung on her shoulder and readied her ink and quill. Looking into the man's pale blue eyes, she nodded expectantly.

"Eager, are we?" Hawke leaned back on his elbows against the stonewall and smirked. "I work better after a drink or two. What would you say to continuing this in that building there? I heard from the Qunari, it's where the ale is being stored currently."

Gwen dropped her journal to her side and corked her ink, irritated. "Look, I have a lot of work to do, if this is some sort of jest…" She lowered her eyebrows at Varric, and rolled her eyes when she saw the dwarf rubbing his hand down his face with the same irritation.

"You either have information or you don't. The Inquisition isn't a free for all, and you most certainly won't get any perks for showing up empty handed."

"I'm not sure I can trust you."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "And why not? Who exactly is this person?"

Hawke glanced over to Varric suspiciously. "He's being hunted by his order. I'm not sure it's safe."

"Your devotion is admirable, but we can help."

Varric interjected. "Trev is alright; we can trust her, Hawke. He can trust her."

The man narrowed his eyes at Gwen and after a few moments at last revealed his informant's secret identity. "His name is Alistair and he's been branded a rogue Grey Warden and… he's hiding out in Crestwood."

The Inquisitor's eyes widened slightly at the name and she scrawled a note in her journal, waiting for the rogue to continue. When he tilted his head at her oddly, she questioned him. "Is that everything?"

"For now." He narrowed his eyes at her, rising from the parapet again. "I'd prefer to let him do the talking. The two of us split up in Jader. I came here to scout ahead with the promise to meet him once I saw Varric. My part is done and I'll be on my way again by dawn tomorrow."

"Brilliant." She shook her head and chuckled coldly. "I'm to trust that his information is good? We have a Grey Warden here already. Why would I need to meet with another?"

"This one's been in the Anderfels for years, he knows things that only a Warden in the thick with his comrades would know."

Jotting another note down, she queried, "You said he's gone rogue?"

"For a damn good reason, Trev." Varric broke in and met Gwen's suspicious eyes. "I know Alistair, he's good people."

"You know just about everyone, don't you?"

Varric chuckled. "I've been around."

The Inquisitor opened her mouth to speak again, but Hawke scowled in rebuke and moved to walk around her. "Alistair will fill you in on the finer details once you find us in Crestwood. I'll have a map to you by day's end."

As her eyes followed him down the stairs, she quickly packed up her writing implements. "It's getting harder and harder to practice tolerance and patience," she muttered.

.

"Wait, you mean the Alistair… my Alistair?" Leliana squealed with excitement.

Gwen sat across the desk and relaxed in the chair, her sage-green eyes smiling at the bard's outburst. "That's what Hawke said, and I came here straight away looking for more information on the man. Do you really think it's him?"

Without any attempt to hide her grin from the Inquisitor, she responded. "I hope it is. Our little motley band had such fun those years ago. To see any of them again would be simply wonderful." She sighed happily and added, "They were such pleasant times."

Gwen stared at her with incredulity. "There was a Blight, Leliana."

"So there was, but I have always made it my prerogative to see the sunnier side of all things." Leliana paused, releasing her interlocked her fingers to feel the gold band on her ring finger beneath her glove.

Softly she continued. "Besides, that's where I met Mihna and during which time we fell in love."

Gwen lowered her eyes to the floor and sighed, "Love."

Hardening her eyes, the bard scolded the Inquisitor's careless disregard of the word. "Does love have no place in our turbulent lives, Gwen?"

"It has no place in my turbulent life."

"You're missing out." The rogue chuckled and let her head fall back. "Those times I felt more free than I ever have before. There was time for dilly dallying, singing and games by the campfire, and endless cold nights in a warm tent, skin-to-skin—"

"Leliana! Please don't scandalize the Hero of Ferelden. I just won't listen to it." The Inquisitor feigned a gasp and made to rise.

Leliana laughed, reached across the table, and gently placed a hand on Gwen's. "Stay! I promise I won't go into all the tawdry details."

She sat back down immediately, giving the redhead a wary look in the process.

With a sadness in her eyes she stated, "Let us enjoy our brief interlude of freedom from our duty. We won't have these moments forever, my friend."

There was a pause for a few minutes and Gwen twirled her finger around a thick piece of chestnut brown hair. In the time it took her to wrap its silky length around her finger, she silently debated whether to go about her duties or stay and converse with Leliana.

Of course, the spy was right: how many times before she joined the Inquisition had she rushed away to study or practice when she should have spent that time with her loved ones. Now all she had were the cold memories of them, which were a sad substitution for the real thing. She smiled wistfully at Leliana and relaxed into her chair once more, still quiet.

The spymaster leaned back in her chair as well, giving Gwen the time needed to make up her mind, yet eager to see the play the Inquisitor would make.

The two had spoken occasionally in Haven and held a mutual respect. Upon returning from Redcliffe, however, Gwen made an attempt each day to visit Leliana and talk about anything and everything. Leliana was far from a fool: she read the reports from Gwen and Dorian's experiences in the alternate future and suspected that she kept returning out of some form of guilt for what happened to the future Leliana. At first she was quite terse with her, but over time the pair truly began to form a friendship.

"Alright, you've convinced me to stay." Gwen sighed and finally voiced.

Leliana smiled warmly at her friend, "If I hadn't, I'd be worried that my skills of persuasion needed brushing up." The spy laughed gaudily.

"What shall we talk about then?"

"Hmm, where were we…? Ah, of course, the exploits with my dear, sweet, elven lover." The rogue smiled devilishly and waited for her counterpart to respond.

Gwen laughed cheekily, shaking her head.

"You must forgive me." Leliana lifted her eyebrow, amused. "I forget that you're an innocent. I wouldn't want to corrupt your pure thoughts."

The Inquisitor barked out a laugh, "I am not an innocent. I just don't want you ruining my opinion of her with your explicit stories. She was a hero of mine; someone I looked up to when I was a young girl in the Circle."

"You're still a young girl, Gwen." Leliana jabbed lightly. "I have not yet determined the exact level of your innocence, but my skills of observation tell me you lack... experience."

"I—I can't believe we're talking about this." Gwen flushed and hid her face in her hands. "And I do too have experience!"

Leliana looked at her with disbelief. "Then why have you scorned the advances of a certain Commander?"

"Oh, be reasonable, Lel. I'm a busy woman."

The Spymaster smirked and shook her head slowly. "No, that's not it. I know you retreat to your quarters immediately after dinner on most days."

She softened then and looked out the window in the tower. "The truth?"

"I always seek the truth, my dear. You know this."

"I lost so much… my friends are gone and… there was someone—"

"A lover?" Leliana sat straighter, an amusing glint in her eye. "I may have to eat my former words concerning your naiveté. You have never spoken of this before."

Gwen released a guarded smile. "Understand that the relationship was… complicated. I knew him for years only as a Templar and it was only a year ago when we started—" she cleared her throat, speaking barely above a whisper, "a romantic relationship."

Leliana giggled. "You are adorable."

The woman blushed, and continued on at the bard's encouraging smile. "When our Circle rebelled, it changed everything, and perhaps not like you'd expect: some of us didn't want war with the Templars. Along with other Aequitarians, I gathered the young mages and sought out the trustworthy Templars, of which Edmund was the leader. We remained at the Circle and he kept us safe, protected us against the radicals on both sides. Eighteen of us held the Circle for months, thanks to him. He was such a capable man… and I learned much during that time of my life."

Gwen allowed her gaze to fall to the floor. "Sometimes I think Edmund would have been a far better choice as Inquisitor."

"Don't you dare." Leliana cut in and reprimanded the mage. "The Maker brought you to us; never doubt his will or your own."

The bard relaxed back into her seat. "Do go on, dear. This is a lovely little story you're telling me."

Gwen smiled and fidgeted in her chair, content to finish the story there. "That's it, really."

"Tell me about Edmund, then," Leliana asked softly.

The woman nodded slowly, swallowing a lump in her throat. "You must know that romance for mages is forbidden, but it never stopped me from imagining what a normal relationship could be like. I would daydream about my wedding, daily keeping the house, even… nights with my husband, and having children. I did so knowing full well that those things would never happen."

Feeling a bit more at ease after expressing her inner thoughts, Gwen kept going. "After we reclaimed the Circle, there was little need for a separation of men and women, as there were too few of us left. There were three children to care for, clean-up to be done, and food to prepare, so everyone had to help. It was a far stretch from what I imagined normal life to be, but the closest thing yet in my life."

"I think I was drawn to Edmund's kindness at first. He was older than I, quite a traditional Templar, and at first very reluctant to see me as more than a mage under his charge."

"Yet, somehow you convinced him?"

Gwen laughed and a flush rose to her cheeks. "First there was a friendship, and then an uneasy tension grew between us whenever we were alone. I wouldn't say I convinced him as much as he allowed it to finally happen, and it was after news of the Conclave came. I think we both realized the world we created was ending."

The mage smiled sadly. "We had no idea what would happen to the us. Would mages be free? Would the rules be even more stringent than before? The only thing we knew was that soon everything was going to change… and I believe it gave him a freedom to act out on his feelings."

"How romantic." Leliana crooned.

"Tragic, more like it."

The brunette turned her head and dropped her chin, letting her hair fall over half her face, as she sighed sadly. "It was still kept secret from the others in our makeshift Circle, so acknowledging it now is… strange. Talking about it, even more so."

"I understand." The bard nodded slowly, watching the woman across from her sit back up straight, her eyes reflecting the grief she tried to keep concealed. "Oh dear, forgive me for forcing this out of you."

"No force is ever necessary with you, Leliana; I trust you. and this was a long time coming. I would have mentioned it to you sooner but, I truly haven't had time to even think about those I lost."

"I'm not sure I'm quite ready to open wide the floodgates unless we want a mournful Inquisitor moping around the keep." Gwen shook her head, embarrassed. "I'm having difficulties as it is making connections with others right now. Besides you of course… now is not the time to grieve."

The spymaster spoke quietly, "Grief takes many forms. We all lost someone dear to us in that explosion, and I strive to keep my own composure by remembering that they would have wanted us to be strong and carry on." She sighed deeply, her own gaze drifting out the window to the bright blue skies. "I mourn Justinia still and I haven't seen my love in ages. And yet I continue on, for their sacrifices and for the greater good. I will see them both again in good time."

Leliana tilted her head and her face became coy and playful. "You must remember though, a little fun here and there is good for the soul."

Gwen looked back from the window at the expectant expression on her spymaster's face. "Oh, don't look at me like that."

Leliana lowered her head and looked at the other woman, disappointed. "You need to enjoy yourself more often, and if you truly aren't prudish, being in mourning is a poor excuse not to. You know, I could arrange a date with Cullen. I hear he finds you quite attractive."

"Are you mad? That's a terrible idea, Leliana! This place is abuzz with rumors about me as it is. I don't need to fan the flames. Leave my love life out of your secret musings, please."

The Inquisitor made to rise. "Now, if there's nothing else you want to discuss, I'll just take the information you have on the Grey Warden and be off."

Looking rather defeated, the aspiring matchmaker slouched back into her arm chair before she rounded her desk, sitting on the front in quiet thought. "Alistair."

The inquisitor smiled and sat back down comfortably, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. "It seems fitting that you tell me something more about the mysterious man. I didn't get anything from Hawke..."

The bard lifted an eyebrow at her friend and chuckled, then rose from the desk and walked across the Rookery to a stack of crates. "Mysterious isn't quite the word I would use to describe the man I knew. He was rather transparent actually, wearing his heart on his sleeve and eager to right the wrongs of the whole world. He was almost annoyingly good at times and I fear the choices we made may have changed him in the end, poor man."

Leliana moved box after box until she found the one she was looking for. She knelt to the floor, lifted it and brought it back to the table. Cracking the lid, she danced long fingertips through the heavy envelopes until she found one, an inch thick with information. Opening it, she pulled out piece after piece of parchment, then collected the pages into an orderly pile, and drew a fresh envelope from the box. In neat script, she wrote upon the top: Alistair.

Making eye contact with the dark haired woman before her, she finally spoke. "This is mostly everything of note that I have on the man."

Taking the envelope, she tilted her head in question. "Mostly?"

Leliana sighed. "Personally speaking, there are things about his life that he would not want shared. If he chooses to reveal his secrets, then let him, but I will not. He was my friend and I will not betray that honor."

Gwen smiled gratefully while opening the envelope. Pulling out the first page, she laid her green eyes on it, an involuntary smile coming to her lips. It was a rough, charcoal drawing of a handsome youth with kind eyes. Gwen held it up curiously, "Is this him?"

"Ten years ago, yes." Leliana nodded, taking her seat again. "You know, there are only so many things you can learn from reading one of those rigid intelligence reports, Gwen."

The mage sat back in her seat comfortably, still staring at the drawing. "How do you propose I educate myself further, then?"

The bard laughed easily and rose from her seat, taking the Inquisitor by the arm. "Education by bard, is the best kind of education."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't speak of my travels with Mihna often enough and so, I shall tell you a story over tea... one rife with adventure, happy banter, and dirty socks."

"Socks?" Green shook her head, confused. Pulling back on her arm. "That doesn't explain where you're taking me."

"You'll see when we get there." The redhead glided down the stairs, calling to the woman behind her. "Come on! Have a little fun once in a while!"

.

18 Drakonis 9:41 Dragon

Skyhold: Day Five

I've been given these roomy quarters and while they are warm and welcoming, there's just so much space here, and so many others who share rooms because of the state of this fortress.

More work needs to be done... Maker, there's always more work.

Leliana's diversion was a welcome retreat today. I feel like I'm being pulled a thousand different ways. Sign this, approve these construction reports, greet the refugees from Haven and the surrounding parts.

Next week, they want me in Northern Ferelden in search of a particular Warden, the famed Alistair.

I read his information Leliana gave me. It's incomplete; there's nothing on him before he became a Warden and it makes me curious what she is hiding.

For reasons unknown, I've left the drawing of him out on my desk. Even now I look at those kind, sad eyes, and something about them comforts me in this time of tension. I'm eager to meet the real man to see if Leliana's hand truly captured his soulful eyes.

People continue to look to me for guidance, and leadership, and- damn it- I truly was not trained for this. I'm proficient in elemental magics, I dabble in the healing arts, I'm a learned person, but I'd be much more suited to a life of information gathering and research. I can only try my hardest to prove that I can be the leader they need and hopefully that will be enough.

Oh, if only Edmund were here, I know he'd take the mantle of leadership. Instead they got me, with this blasted mark.

I survived the frozen mountain pass. The people were saved. That wasn't divine; it was luck and timing.

I'm no hero.

Not like Surana. Not like Leliana or Cullen or even Cassandra. Perhaps collecting heroes is my job, it's something I can do instead of pretending to be something I'm not.

And now another hero is in our grasp, Alistair, companion to the Hero of Ferelden. Perhaps he should be collected as well.

Maker guide me.

…

The Inquisitor rose from her desk and flopped her journal closed in frustration. Wrapping her arms around her body in false comfort, she walked to the glass doors to her balcony, opened them, and stepped out into the chill wind of night.

"This is my place, I suppose, but Maker's breath, can I—?" Absentmindedly she began to pull at a chain around her neck and the heavy pendant fell into her fingers as she squeezed the likeness of Andraste in her fist.

"Can I do this alone?" She whispered softly, tears coming to her eyes as she studied the pendant, hoping in vain to learn the answer from the worn silver.

"I can and I will." Slowly she nodded, clutching at the pendant once more. "No doubts, no regrets."

xXXXx

7 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon

Crestwood

Dear Leliana,

We've just arrived in Crestwood this morning and camped on the outskirts. It is a most dismal place. Rain and torrential downpours, flooded roads, walking corpses, demons… It's horrid! There's a rift in the middle of the lake too. The MIDDLE of the LAKE. How am I supposed to reach that? By rowboat? Goodness, I hope not…

I thought the Hinterlands was miserable with the raging war… No, no, this is far worse.

Hawke's map directs us to a location about twenty miles from where we are now. The forward camp soldiers said he'd been here nearly two weeks ago. We'll leave when we have enough light to walk without being attacked by the undead.

.

8 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon

Crestwood Village

We made our way up to the town and met the Mayor. Along the way we ran into two Grey Wardens who were looking for Alistair. They said they had orders to bring him to the Warden-Commander. They seemed as eager to depart from this place as we were (lucky bastards) and I hope they do leave, so that they won't be a threat to our potential ally.

There was an elven woman named Jana who offered to help us. Solas and I convinced her to join the Inquisition and she should be with you in a short time. She seems a sweet girl, I know you'll find a place for her at Skyhold.

The Mayor was acting suspiciously, so says Varric, and he does have a sense for these things, but we're going to help him with the torment, as it is the only sensible thing to do. There's a rift and that's why I have this damnable mark.

Our journey is so far from over and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed, honestly. Maybe it's the weather; it still hasn't let up. One step at a time. We're here in Crestwood to help the people, gain allies and spread the word of the Inquisition. This is meant to be easy, right?

...

9 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon

Crestwood

Today we made excellent travel time to the campsite in the southeast and I even went out of the way and closed another rift a mile or so from our camp, as it seemed proper.

There is a delightful soldier named Denholm here. We chatted for a bit. Where do you find such kind souls?

This lot is quite resourceful: they dug trenches around the camp to divert the rainwater and pilfered a small stove for cooking from an abandoned farmhouse nearby. The hot meal they provided was exactly what we needed to keep us going.

I've discussed it with the group and they agree that we should push on; a dry, warm cave sounds great right about now. We should make it to Hawke and Alistair tonight, just past sunset.

Will this rain ever stop?

I'm sending my letters with the courier here and hope you'll receive them shortly. I hope you're well.

Gwen

.

"Stay yourselves!" A crisp voice called out in the night, his bow drawn and trained on the moonlight glistening on Cassandra's armor.

"Hawke? Is that you?" Varric answered from the black. "We're soaking wet and freezing our asses off. We don't need to be riddled with arrows as well, so lower the bow, and let us camp."

"Took you long enough." He called out, lowering his bow at the familiar voice.

"I happen to think we made excellent time." Gwen spoke defiantly, emerging from the night into his vision. He was dry and standing just inside the mouth of the cave.

"Come along; we've been waiting for ages." Hawke ignored her comment and turned, gesturing for the quartet to follow him.

There was a torch casting a moving shadow in the cave and a light around a wooden door, deeper in as Hawke had told them. Blood stains decorated the door and the skeletal head of the Blind Men insignia was painted there: the entrance was slightly ominous. The firelight though, was warm and inviting to the group. Hawke opened the door for Gwen as the others lingered in the entryway, shaking the excess water from their outerwear.

The Inquisitor quietly walked inside, tiptoeing almost, not wanting to disturb the waiting Warden. She looked around but he was not to be seen. In the front area, there were torches on the walls, along with some rusted weapons, and barrels of supplies. The fire was burning there with two bedrolls placed near it, but the Inquisitor pressed on into the darker recess of the cave. She spun slowly in place to observe the cave fully: there were several packs with provisions, and a table with maps and books strewn upon its surface. Then there was a sharp noise: a blade drawn behind her. Gwen spun around quickly, eyeing its point at her chest.

"Ah, Hello." The inquisitor had her arms raised in as innocent a gesture she was able to make.

"Andraste's flaming ass, man! She's with us." Hawke stumbled into view, griping at his companion. "First my arrow, now your sword, couldn't ask for a warmer welcome." Hawke laughed and turned toward the Warden.

Agitated, the Grey Warden growled at Hawke. "You're supposed to announce yourself when you return."

"She's a quick one. Got past me before I could call out, man." Hawke chuckled, placing a slap on the Warden's back. "Relax."

Gwen blushed, the color staining her pale, wet cheeks. "I suppose introductions are to be made-"

"Indeed!" The tall rogue aggrandized his speech and cut off her words.

"This," Hawke made an exaggerated gesture with his hand, "is the almighty Inquisitor."

"I'm Alistair." Turning his attention again to Gwen, he sheathed his sword.

Gwen smiled and responded, shivering slightly. "Good to meet you finally. Do you mind if we warm ourselves by the fire?"

"Of course, and my apologies for greeting you at sword point." He cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured the group to the fire pit, where low flames gathered on a recently placed log.

The four tired travelers unrolled their sleep packs to cover the ground of the cave where they sat. Hawke and Alistair moved their own packs to make room for four guests. The drenched group began to rid themselves of their damp outer garments and placed them on the rocks lining the perimeter of the room to dry.

As she shrugged out of her long leather jacket, Gwen watched the Warden closely: he carried himself confidently when he walked, and moved with the rigidity of a soldier as he rolled up his bedroll to make room for the newcomers. He then laid it down again and lounged on it comfortably. His tawny hair looked nearly red in the firelight, wrinkles crept onto the outer corners of his eyes, and he had a few light scars peppering his tanned skin. If the drawing she had memorized had gotten one thing right, it was his eyes. She registered their honey-brown color for the first time and smiled at the echo of hidden kindness, behind his apparent rigid exterior. To top it off, Alistair had indeed grown into a handsome man.

The rain had soaked clear through Gwen's jacket and dampened her 'official Inquisitor under armor' and so she began the tedious task of unclasping each hook-and-eye and placed it beside her leather jacket to dry. Underneath she wore a simple cream linen top with capped sleeves and a swan-necked collar; it was neatly tucked into her leather leggings. Her braid was soaked and so she walked to the entrance way to unpick it, and wring out her thick dark locks, shaking her head as she returned to the fireside. Feeling slightly out of sorts with wet hair and donning her undershirt in the company of strangers, she blushed as she took her seat beside the fire.

There was silence in the cave besides the soft noise of rain falling and the shuffling of her companions to ready themselves for the night. Gwen's eye roamed around the room and caught Alistair's eyes for a moment. Pausing in his gaze, she lifted the corner of her mouth in a strange smile. He gave an uneasy cough and swiftly averted his eyes. In response, she awkwardly called out a question to which she already knew the answer, "So- You're the Alistair who fought the Archdemon with the Hero of Ferelden?"

He grimaced slightly, looking to Hawke and back, "I think I need to change my name. Yes, that was me. War, betrayal, darkspawn: All lots of fun and made for excellent stories, I'm sure." With a curt response, he said flatly "Nobody cares about that anymore. I answered to Warden-Commander Clarel, same as everybody else."

Gwen was taken aback by the brusqueness of his response because, she did care, contrary to what he thought. Her words weren't meant to be any kind of an insult and she felt like he had taken it as such. She felt a fool: immature and unprepared. Leliana's most recent tales had colored her opinion of the Warden Alistair and she came into the conversation thinking that he would be the jovial youth who traveled with her spymaster ten years prior. But she was a stranger to him and of course, ten years' time can change anyone.

She was practically a child herself ten years ago. At the age of fourteen she was tripping down the halls of the Ostwick Circle as she grew into her long legs and she was more concerned with teen boys, than studies. When the Blight came, she cried along with those who lost family and friends, and was kept awake many a night worrying that the darkspawn would reach their Circle. They were childish musings of course, and she had transitioned greatly in those years. How could she blame him for doing the same?

Gwen set her former thoughts about the Grey Warden aside and donned her professional face: the same one she used when she taught the youth of the circle and coincidentally, the one she used while Inquisitor-ing.

Turning the conversation to more dire events, she responded crisply. "Aptly put Alistair. Shall we move the conversation straight to business then?"

Alistair raised his eyebrows as the Inquisitor took control of the discussion. All other eyes were drawn to her as she stood, holding a worn leather book and a small leather pouch with a feather quill sticking out of the top.

Flipping the journal open half way, she readied her inkwell on one of the large boulders within her reach and spoke forthright, "Hawke, Alistair: Tell me your stories, and as much as you can recall about Corypheus." As a woman of precision, she wanted every detail and though tired, she took a deep breath and readied herself. It was going to be a long night.

…

Much to the Inquisitor's irritation, after only a short time Varric derailed the business talk, to tell one of his outlandish stories about the Kirkwall adventures. With a detectably inebriated and guffawing Hawke eagerly encouraging him into another tale, nearly an hour passed before Alistair began to speak of his experiences again. Before he delved too far though, the group decided to take a short break.

The rain had finally ceased, so Gwen and Cassandra took the opportunity go out of the cave for a bit of fresh air and to relieve themselves.

From behind the thick brush, Gwen heard Cassandra speak quietly, "What do you think of the Warden?"

"He's certainly nothing like Blackwall."

She huffed. "That doesn't answer my question at all."

Gwen sighed, stood up, and adjusted her clothes. Turning back toward the cave she waited for Cassandra and answered her, "In truth, I'm not sure what to make of him. He seems a decent man, dedicated to the Wardens, but there's a deep sadness I can see in his eyes. This Calling is quite troubling for him. I only wish we had more information about it."

"I meant, professionally, what do you think of him?"

"Oh. If his stories are true, he's battle worn and follows orders… mostly. He's forthcoming with the information on Corypheus, thought I suspect there will be more if only Varric could keep his mouth shut long enough for the man to finish a thought."

The women shared a harrumph and Gwen continued. "He's given us some valuable information on the Wardens too. I think he'll make a useful ally against our foes."

"As do I. And I agree with you… on your other observations as well."

Gwen smiled at her warrior and they walked back to the cave in amiable silence.

Varric and Hawke were outside on watch together, laughing heartily as the latter finished a rather lewd punchline centering on what seemed to be a Rivaini. Cassandra rolled her eyes and pushed back into the cave. Gwen paused with the two rogues, making small talk for a few minutes.

"Better get back in there to the Warden, Trev. I hear there's a lot more ground to cover." Varric grinned at her.

She turned and walked backwards a few steps, irritation creeping up her throat, threatening to scold the tispy dwarf. "I'm sorry to bore you with inane details about our arch nemesis, but someone's got to search through everything we have and find something to exploit."

"Better you than me! I hate paperwork… unless it's prose." He chuckled at her.

"I live for this kind of research. It's what I did in the Circle... Well, that and casting fireballs. Not all of us can be famous storytellers and master archers with one-of-a-kind crossbows. The world needs the bookworms too." Gwen gave a wave of dismissal and walked back into the cave.

Pausing a few steps away, she turned on her heel and narrowed her eyes at the dwarf. "Though, might I make a suggestion, Varric?"

"By all means, your Inquisitorialness!"

With a near-stern voice, Gwen made her request. "In order to do my job, I need you to keep your mouth quiet until the Warden is finished giving me everything I need. Goodness knows your cohort here don't be supplying anymore information in his condition."

Blue eyes narrowed at her and Hawke took a fragile step forward, but was caught in the stomach by the dwarf's large palm.

Gwen blinked rapidly, ignoring the former Champion's move. "After which, feel free to resume your storytelling: you know how much I enjoy good fiction."

Though her words were kindly, Varric knew better than to cross her or joke with her when she made any suggestion in her Inquisitor voice. "Of course." He bowed slightly and the woman nodded, turning back down the path into the cave.

When she was out of earshot, Hawke looked at Varric, stunned at Gwen's outburst. "Well, shit. Did we just get told by the Inquisitor?"

"That we did, my friend."

"Huh. People usually treat me with as little more respect, considering-"

"Just shut up." Varric said lowly, through a smirk.

"Are you two coming?" The Inquisitor called out from the interior of the cave.

"We'll only get in your way, Trev, and plus we've got some catching up to do." Testing the limits of his leader, the dwarf called out with a grin, "Take notes!"