'Hey, um, spirit lady?'

She vaguely registered a familiar voice through her sleep-induced haziness. Yesterday had been weird, no denying it.

'I don't mean to be a bother.'

Wait. That was Alistair. She turned around—and a heavy lump of flesh moved with her. That was sufficiently off-putting that she remembered what had happened.

'Alistair? Shouldn't you have your body back by now?'

'Hey now,' he laughed, though she thought she sensed hidden tension in the words. 'You're going to hurt my delicate feelings. Is it really so terrible to have to spend a little time with me?'

'It's not that,' she apologized, feeling as though she was really apologizing for something else entirely. 'I haven't had a body in so long. It's not that yours in specific is off-putting.'

She opened Alistair's eyes to a riotous mess of light forcing entry to his tent in a beam. She jolted. "That could be weaponised," she hissed, downright shocked at how bright morning was. Daybreak was more intense than anything in the fade.

'It's like you have a hangover,' Alistair commented. 'In any case. Do you have any idea how we're going to set this right?'

'I thought that once you were healed, I would just go back to the fade,' she admitted rather sheepishly. 'But you seem to be improved, and…'

'And here I am, incorporeal,' Alistair finished. His words were light, but there was more than an undertone of fear in the words. 'Not to say I don't trust you, of course, since you've been nothing but helpful and good to me, but, well…'

'You don't trust me,' she supplied good-naturedly. 'I don't blame you. I don't think I would like riding shotgun in my own body, either.'

'Riding… what?' Alistair seemed absolutely befuddled.

'Never mind,' she reassured. 'I'm going to try to pull myself back to the Fade now, all right? I'm not sure how this will feel for you, or if you'll feel anything at all.'

'All right,' he agreed uneasily.

She felt out for the connection, the echoing depths of the Fade. They had been so prevalent in the Circle Tower that she had thought it would be easy earlier.

Panic began to set in when she found nothing, and Alistair noticed it.

'Is everything all right?' he asked awkwardly, with obvious fear creeping into his words.

She felt like crying.

'No.' She almost whispered, in the safe confines of Alistair's mind. 'It's not all right at all. I can't feel the Fade, Alistair. I don't know how to break the connection.'

They each took a long moment to wallow in their despair, and she worried his lip.

'Hey, now,' Alistair awkwardly tried to comfort her, but that was somewhat hampered by his inability to make contact with her, still being incorporeal. That just served to remind her yet again of their situation, and she quickly dissolved into a crying, whimpering ball.

'It will be fine.' Alistair spoke with false confidence, but she had to applaud his effort. She forced herself to quit whimpering in self-pity, and straightened out Alistair's body so he no longer looked like a babbling mental patient.

'So, what do we do now?' Alistair asked, shifting awkwardly. It was an odd feeling, to be one of two entities occupying a single body, she noted with a surreal sort of hysteria. But screaming and crying wasn't going to get her out of this situation, and it certainly wasn't making Alistair any more confident in her abilities. She took a quiet moment to calm her tattered nerves, and then addressed Alistair.

'Can you control any part of your body at all?' she queried, mentally compiling a list of potential problems and solutions.

'Ah, no.' Alistair admitted rather sheepishly. 'Though I am starting to notice some – tingling- in my fingers, and toes.'

'Maybe you're just realigning with your body, since it doesn't know how to respond to someone else occupying it. It's noticing that I'm not you, and is gradually preparing to dispose of the interloper?'

If Alistair possessed control of his eyes, he would have rolled them, she was sure.

'Maybe,' he admitted some grudgingly, 'but what happens to you then?'

No point in sugarcoating it.

'I don't know.'

Then, an idea struck her.

'You know mages, yes? That Wynne lady, and the swamp witch with the awful attitude.'

Alistair groaned.

'Did you have to remind me of Morrigan so early in the morning? I think there are laws against that sort of thing.'

She giggled, despite herself. 'But if they can open a portal to the Fade, I could go back, don't you see?'

'No.' Was Alistair's grim answer. 'That would release demons. And, worse yet, I'm not sure that Morrigan would let you go. She's… tricky, like that. She might think you were interesting, or useful.'

That did sound rather grim.

'Um, well, you go to the Fade when you dream, right? Even though I don't. So when you do finally get control fully back, or enough to dream, I could slip right through and go back.'

This seemed much less risky, though she'd still have to continue puppeting poor Alistair's body until he could take over himself.

'That does sound preferable.' Alistair admitted. 'Though I'll admit, I don't miss my dreams. I don't think you'll enjoy them much, either.'

'What do you dream of?' she asked, curious.

Alistair was being uncharacteristically solemn all of a sudden.

'Wardens… we don't dream of nice things.' Alistair finally grumbled. 'In Blights, like this, we dream of the Archdemon. And most of our dreams are always about darkspawn, in any case.'

'Blight?' she questioned. She really hadn't had the time to learn everything Alistair knew in the few hours she'd had in the tower.

Alistair took the time to explain darkspawn, the Blight, and the Archdemons, while she lay there and absorbed everything.

'And so, Grey Wardens stop the Blight?' she asked, desperately trying to connect all the pieces he'd given her to assemble.

'Essentially, yes.' Alistair tried to shrug, but only made their shoulders tingle.

'Because of the Taint you take into yourselves, somehow.' She mused lazily. There was something not quite right about that story, but she knew Alistair wasn't lying to her.

Maybe he just hadn't been told everything.

It was likely, actually. He hadn't been a Warden long, by his own admission. And the Grey Wardens seemed to love their secrets. Alistair didn't even know how to perform a Joining to recruit more Wardens, even though they were desperately needed.

The question she couldn't shake, is why were the Wardens needed?

That they could sense the darkspawn was useful, yes, but not really world-turning. Good scouting parties could accomplish much the same thing, and Alistair didn't give her the impression that Wardens were meant to be separated just to serve as darkspawn radar.

Whatever the answer was, Alistair didn't know it, so she let the subject drop.

'Spirit?'

Alistair jolted her out of her musings somewhat abruptly, and she twitched, taking his whole body along for the ride.

'Yes?' She asked weakly, more than a bit embarrassed. What kind of spirit was she?

'What do I call you? 'Spirit' just sounds so impersonal, you know. Do you have a name?'

Oh. This was awkward. What had her name been? It had been so long ago since anyone had needed to use it, and such things did not matter in the Fade.

'I do, but I don't remember it.' She admitted. She must be the world's greatest moron. Who forgot their name?

'That won't do.' Alistair stated authoritatively. 'We'll just have to think up a new name for you.' And though she was incredibly embarrassed, she was glad that Alistair had at least found something to occupy himself for the time being. It was disheartening to for him to be depressed, and she didn't like it.

'Hannah?'

She grimaced.

'No, too plain. Yevena? No, that was a name of a demon we saw in the Fade. I know, Elissa! … No, that's Elissa's name.'

Alistair continued to muse, and she smiled.

'Well, you should get dressed and help clean up camp.' Alistair suddenly switched gears, and she jolted a bit at the sudden change. 'They know I was injured yesterday, but the Blight waits for no one.'

He paused, seeming to think.

'Except the Archdemon, I suppose.' He amended. 'They wait for one of those. Otherwise the darkspawn apparently just prowl around the Deep Roads, happy to feast on giant spiders and, I dunno, go to darkspawn bars or something.'

She giggled again, but sat up and began strapping on his armor plating.

'Don't worry, I'll keep thinking of a name.' Alistair needlessly reassured. 'I'm going to find a really great one, just you wait.'

'I'm already excited.' She promised, as she grabbed his sword and shield, and crawled awkwardly out of his tent, not exactly ready- but willing, to take on the day.

The few days she spent in isolation in Recliffe were awkward. The mages all went to an upper level of the castle for some sort of party she wasn't invited to, and she was briskly shoved into a small but well-furnished room in the barracks.

'What are we doing here, anyway?' she asked.

Alistair bristled, obviously uncomfortable. 'Ah, the mages should be freeing Connor from a demonic possession.' He admitted awkwardly.

'Oh, is that all?' She asked. 'How did he get possessed?'

He seemed unsure. 'He's a mage. Lady Isolde didn't want to send him to the Circle, so she found a blood mage to come and teach him. The blood mage poisoned Arl Eamon, and the boy made a deal with a demon to keep him alive.'

'She just hired on a blood mage?' The spirit felt confused. 'I thought mages were kept in the Circle.'

'They are.' Alistair admitted. 'This one escaped, and was being hunted. Isolde took him on as a tutor, after Loghain released him to poison Arl Eamon.'

'Why would he want Eamon dead?' That hadn't really cleared anything up. There were too many people to remember.

'Eamon is the Arl of Redcliffe, and wouldn't support Anora at the Landsmeet in her candidacy as Queen.' Alistair informed her brusquely.

'So who was in charge of the Arling while he was ill?'

'No one. Isolde, technically.' Alistair admitted. 'But Connor was possessed, and killed all the soldiers stationed here and sent their demon-possessed corpses down into the village.'

'Are the people all right?' she asked, horrified.

'Well, no.' Alistair cringed. 'Most of them are dead.'

'Is this… normal?' She was almost lost for words.

'Where young, untrained mages are concerned, it's been known to happen. Well, not this exact situation, but things like this, yes.' Alistair stated authoritatively.

'So, this Isolde woman knew this could happen?'

Alistair stopped entirely. 'Well… yes.' He admitted. 'She would have. But she didn't want to give up her son, it's very understandable-'

'There are many things it is, but understandable isn't one of them.' She cut him off firmly. 'She's supposed to be in charge. She's supposed to look out for her people. No one wants to give up their child, but to make everyone abide by those laws and flout them herself is unconscionable. She endangered all of her people. Those deaths are all at her feet.'

Alistair was obviously awestruck. 'I'd… never thought of it that way before.'

'You should have.' She informed him brusquely, then rethought it as he flinched from her. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But she neglected her duty, and her selfishness cost uncounted lives.'

He relaxed, though only minutely.

'Honestly, Queen Anora should probably have her executed for crimes against her people. None of the citizens will ever trust her, or her husband, again. As they should, honestly. Once this gets out, the whole country will entirely destabilize. The citizens have been giving up their children to the Circle, but now they'll think that this wasn't an isolated case of the nobility exercising privilege, Alistair. If something isn't done about it…'

'The whole populace will rebel.' Alistair finished, sounding nauseous.

'Yeah.' No point in denying it. 'And she was responsible for every death that occurred because of that decision. She even endangered her own husband's life, by bringing in that blood mage.'

'None of this would have happened without her.' Alistair gasped, as though coming to that conclusion for the first time.

'Maybe.' The spirit shrugged. 'This Loghain man might have sent another person to kill or incapacitate the Arl. But if Connor was in the Circle, he wouldn't have torn the Veil here and turned to a demon. He wouldn't have known.'

Alistair's presence slumped, defeated. 'I never thought about any of that.'

She reached out to him reassuringly. 'Hey, you did fix it.'

'Not yet.' Alistair groused. 'What would you do, if you were Queen Anora?'

'Try Lady Isolde publicly for crimes against her people and execute her. It might be best to take away Eamon's land and title, as well. If he didn't know of any of it, he's criminally negligent. And it would be better for the people if he wasn't ruling them any more. They would be less bitter if they could start over. That Bann Teagan man we met is his brother, yes?'

Alistair grunted in the affirmative. The spirit nodded authoritatively. 'I would make him Arl in Eamon's place, then. No need to take it entirely out of the family and destabilize the area further. Teagan seems likable enough, he'd be able to manage it. Then Eamon can stay here if Teagan permits, and the people would be satisfied.'

'Hopefully.' She amended. 'That's what I would do. But I'm not Queen Anora. She may handle it differently.'

'Does Eamon have to step down?' Alistair asked, somewhat defensively.

She considered it for a moment. 'Yes. He does. He's the Arl, so honestly he should be tried with his wife for crimes against his people. He's supposed to be in charge, and any actions taken in his name are his responsibility. It's not his fault, but he is responsible for it. There's just no reason to execute him for it, since he wasn't complicit in his wife's deception.'

Alistair seemed conflicted. 'But he's a good Arl.'

'Is he?' she asked, curiously. 'Do you know him well?'

Alistair nodded. 'He raised me, actually. I grew up here in Redcliffe. I stayed here, in the stables, until he married Lady Isolde. She was… resentful of my presence, so she had me sent away.'

'You lived in the stables.' She muttered angrily. 'Why?'

'I'm a royal bastard.' He spat. 'Everyone thought I was Eamon's bastard, so she wanted to get rid of me. They sent me to the Chantry.'

Now she was stumped. 'So you're a prince, then?'

'Yes.' He groaned. 'And King Maric had Arl Eamon raise me.'

'And he did a piss-poor job, Alistair.' She bit back. 'There is no excuse for raising a child in a filthy stable. And why was this woman given authority to send you away? Wasn't your father angry about that?'

'He was dead by then.' Alistair shrugged. 'I don't think he ever checked in on me.'

'I don't think so, either, or he would have had Arl Eamon's head on a pike.' She muttered angrily. 'Raising you in a stable, and tossing you out like yesterday's trash. I want to pummel him into paste, maybe the golem will help me. She seems to like crushing awful things.'

Alistair reared back, shocked. 'I don't want anything to happen to Arl Eamon!' He waved his hands frantically. 'I'm very grateful that he took care of me.'

'That's because you're a very good boy, but I can't attribute that to your raising.' The spirit countered. 'You shouldn't be grateful. Any other family would have taken you in as an orphan, and probably raised you as a knight. He purposefully kept you isolated and ill-cared for, so you would beatify him for any small kindness he gave you. I'm guessing that he threw you out not long after Cailan was crowned?'

There was a telling silence.

'How did you know that?' he asked uncomfortably.

She threw up her hands in exasperation. 'Because he just wanted his mitts on a king, Alistair. And it would be inconvenient if Cailan found out about you, so he got rid of you. But you were still an heir until Cailan had a child of his own, so he made sure you were squirreled away somewhere no one would look for you. If Cailan died, he'd throw you out as a candidate as the last of your line. You'd be a Templar, which is a noble profession, but wholly overlooked. And if you happened to come back with a nasty lyrium addiction, I'm sure your favorite uncle would have been more than happy to help you get your itch and help you with any pesky political situations.'

Alistair seemed like he was about to cry.

'Oh, now, don't get upset.' She tried to reassure him, feeling guilty for pointing out harsh truths and wishing she could physically comfort him. 'He may not be the nicest man, but there are plenty of people that genuinely want what's best for you. And he'd never actively harm you, he was just looking out for his best interest. And maybe I'm wrong,' she said quietly. 'Maybe you're right about all of it, and he just thought that what he did would be best for you.'

Alistair slumped further. 'No, I mean, well… I don't know.' He admitted. 'I just liked it better, thinking he really cared about me.'

'I'm sure on some level he does.' She drew herself around him like a blanket. 'I just… I hope you're right. I don't want you getting used like that.'

'Thank you.' Alistair mumbled, and she squeezed him tighter, like one would hold a crying child.

'Oh, god, this isn't going well at all.' She despaired quietly, hoping Alistair either would spare some comforting words and hints at how to pretend to be human again, or at least ignore her utter incompetence. She'd finally managed to break away from the group for a moment, to self-flagellate in peace.

Luckily for her, Alistair came through. 'Hey, now, it's not so bad.' He cajoled, taking a sweet tone she most associated with parents and teachers. 'This is your first day, after all, who could blame you for forgetting things.'

'I forgot that you need to eat.' She grumbled, hating herself for forgetting something so simple. Then, a new fear struck her.

'Oh, god, what if I forget what it feels like when you need to go to the bathroom, or something?'

Alistair didn't even sound miffed. 'Hey, it happens. And if I'm not worried about it, you shouldn't be. Maker knows they already think me a simpleton.'

'But you aren't,' She objected sullenly.

Alistair coughed awkwardly. 'Well, I may have… cultivated that particular personality.'

She was less than amused. 'Why.'

Alistair was silent for a few moments, and she took the opportunity to kick the nearest tree stump. The bark exploded off of it, but it did nothing to ease her irritation.

'I'm a bastard prince.' Alistair muttered so quietly that she almost didn't catch it. 'And I don't like being in charge. I don't really like being singled out at all.'

That did make a lot of sense, actually.

'You know, Alistair, you're better than that.' She offered, even though she was much more in a mood to pity herself than help anyone else.

'I am?' He asked, somewhat self-consciously.

'You are.' She stated. 'And you know you can do better than that. You can be a leader, and it isn't really fair to either yourself or anyone else when you don't speak up.'

Alistair was utterly silent, and obviously insulted.

'And hey,' she cajoled, 'I think it's a crime that no one but me knows how funny you are.'

Alistair was pleased with the compliment, she could feel that, but not enough to set off his earlier anger.

She shrugged. 'You should think about it. If you need to be King, you could be really great at it. But if you want to act the fool for now, though, I won't complain. God knows I'm going to end up making you look like an idiot, regardless of how I think you should be seen.'

A few more days passed as they made their way to Denerim, and she felt that Alistair's body was now responding to her better than ever. Moving his limbs no longer involved conscious effort, and she no longer felt the sensation of moving in molasses after a few bouts of cleansing magic. Even better, his body had started to retain some of her ability, which she was sure Alistair would find most appealing when he regained control.

Hopefully, that would be relatively soon. It was a strange balance they maintained on a daily basis, she had to admit. He wanted his body back, and she wanted to give it back to him, but neither of them could do anything until he'd managed to recover enough control over himself to dream and let her go back.

Luckily, Alistair had only remained cross and silent for a few hours. He was still avoiding the subject, but she knew he was thinking it over. Instead, he'd decided to quiz her endlessly on the untold centuries she'd spent in the Fade.

'So what did you do there with most of your time?' Alistair pried hopefully.

'I don't suppose you'd be inclined to believe I influenced pagan societies to worship me as their goddess, and coerced them to bring me offerings of driftwood and potato salad?' She sighed, exhausted. He'd been bothering her for hours already today, and showed no signs of stopping.

'I'm actually very inclined to believe it, but I doubt any of it was on purpose.' Alistair joked. 'So if you weren't travelling the world and teaching the Qunari to love, what did you spend all that time doing?'

'I read and wrote, mostly.' Sharing this bit of information couldn't hurt, at least

'Read and wrote what, exactly?' Alistair sounded very excited, and she instantly cursed herself for giving him anything to go off of.

There was nothing for it, anyway. He'd never trust her if she lied to him.

'I read and wrote about anything I could get my hands on. It's so dreadfully dull in the Fade, you see. And some of them I wrote… you're going to have to promise to not laugh at me about this.'

Alistair promised solemnly, and so she continued.

'I wrote a few of them about me.'

'I'm confused,' Alistair said, sounding like he was holding back laughter. 'You wrote a diary in the Fade and left it for others to read?'

'No! Well, not exactly.' And suddenly, she felt even more embarrassed than she had during this whole escapade, which was no mean feat. 'It's just… I needed to write about who I was – am – before. Spirits, we forget. And when we forget, that's when we become something else, like a demon. We can also become spirits embodying values, like Justice or Mercy or Compassion, but we're never… us again after that. After I watched my friends change, I knew it was something I needed to do.'

Alistair became very, very quiet for a moment. She hoped that he wouldn't continue in that line of questioning. That entire line of thought felt too raw, too real, to discuss with him right now.

'And the other books?' he asked.

She thanked whatever deity was looking out for her at the moment, and shrugged reflexively.

'People create books in the Fade, you know. They just think them into being, in whatever language they speak. Sometimes they're a book of children's tales, sometimes they're accounting ledgers, other times they're books of lost magics. Some are useful, some are not. I had time, so I read them all.'

Alistair just hummed in assent. 'So I bet you know all kinds of wonderful things, right?'

'Perhaps.' She allowed. 'Some of what I know is possibly worthless works of fiction. It is a hard thing to know, and yet quite another thing to understand.'

'So what really happened to the Black City, do you know?' Alistair asked.

If she could have glared at him, she would have. But, if she was being honest with herself, that had happened hundreds of years ago already, and it was time for her to move on.

'Yes, and no.' She stated carefully, mindful of her wording and tone. 'I was one of the spirits that helped to create what they called the Golden City, but most of it was actually created by living mages. I did not see what exactly happened to rot and corrupt it, but afterwards the demons of the Fade showed themselves for what they truly were.'

'So, is there a Maker at all?' Alistair asked, 'The Chantry tells us that the Tevinter Magisters touched the Golden City and changed it, and became darkspawn.'

'I do not know if there is a Maker or not, Alistair, and I am unaware of what became of the Magisters that disappeared. It is perhaps possible that there is a grain of truth to what your Chantry says. Maybe the magisters made deals with the spirits of the Fade that utterly corrupted all involved. However, to my knowledge, the Golden City becoming the Black City was merely a symptom, not a cause.'

Alistair actually laughed.

'You do realize you just made the most controversial statement about the Chantry in its history, don't you? Religious scholars would kill me to have this conversation with you about it.'

She chuckled to herself. 'I would hope not, or we'd both likely die right now.'

'Right, I'll be extra quiet about it then." Alistair teased, before taking a more serious tone again.

'So you really were there, weren't you? When that happened. I think you know more than you're telling me. Am I right?'

She slumped.

'Yes.' She acknowledged glumly. 'Though my involvement in the corruption of the Black City is just what I said it was. Nothing. However, those mages were companions of mine, dream-friends that I enjoyed speaking with.'

Alistair nodded solemnly. 'They were important to you, then.'

'They were.' No point in lying about it. And they'd never come back into the Fade in any form she recognized, if they ever came back at all.

'Is that why you saved me from those demons back in the Circle Tower? I know I was very close to dying then.' Alistair shifted awkwardly, which informed her that he'd been thinking about this particular topic for some time.

'Yes, I suppose so.' She acknowledged. 'But I didn't really think of it like that. We were panicking, I was panicking. All I knew is that a mass amount of demons, and a spirit of Faith had gone missing, all in the Circle Tower section of the Fade, where I was at the time. Of course, I didn't realize what place it was then, but there are only two other places I know of where the Veil is so torn asunder. It was of great concern to us, as the connection to the Circle Tower was completely unstable.'

Alistair started panicking, but it wasn't until she picked over her words that she realized why.

'You want us to go to those two other places and close the Veil, don't you.'

Alistair affected a pleading look, and she snorted.

'Fine, it is a good idea. And if I'm here, I may as well do some good. I don't suspect you are any good at closing the Veil.'

Alistair sighed, relieved. 'Good. I hate to think that there are more of those things out there, threatening innocent virgins and adorable puppies.'

She blinked, and laughed. Then she poked Alistair in the ethereal chest (or through, more accurately).

'Only one problem, buddy.'

'And what problem is that?' Alistair asked, looking panicked again.

'Nothing too major, but I don't have access to anything near my full power in your body. It can't handle both of us in here at the same time, it would tear us apart trying to make room. That's why those abominations look so darn ugly.'

'So, can or can't you close them?' Alistair asked. 'I thought you were a powerful spirit.'

'I am, Alistair!' She tried to poke him again. 'But I don't have that much here to close a ton of openings in the Veil, which both of those places have. However, there is another person with an extra passenger in your party. You'll need to help me convince them to help us. Their spirit isn't as powerful as I am, but between the two of us we should be able to take care of any problems with the Veil that may arise.'

'Wynne.' Alistair sounded almost disappointed. 'You think a spirit of Faith is in Wynne. The nice, grandmotherly, Circle Mage that wouldn't hurt a fly.'

'Wouldn't hurt a fly?' She was glad she no longer had control of Alistair's head, or she would have laughed out loud and probably scared the war-dog. 'She killed four bandits with her walking stick this morning.'

'Besides,' she added for emphasis, 'it's a spirit of Faith. Not a demon. You don't think I'm a demon, do you? You don't seem like a particularly ill-behaved man. Or should the rest of your group suspect you of being an abomination because you never seem to wash your socks?'

'Point taken,' Alistair grumbled. 'Take me over to Wynne, then. We will need to talk to her, first. Then Elissa, like you said.'

They lumbered their way across the camp (it was awkward to move, with Alistair controlling one foot, his head and neck, and his right arm. She rather thought they looked like Frankenstein's monster when they moved around) all the way to Wynne, who was seated upon a fallen log. She looked to be peacefully resting and enjoying the crackling campfire, while everyone else had all gone to bed.

All but for Shale, in any case, who was standing guard a ways away. Hopefully, the golem would not present any problems.

"Wynne?" Alistair called softly, as they padded over the grass to her seat.

Wynne opened her eyes slowly, and smiled.

"Yes, Alistair? What can I do for you?"

Alistair questioningly gestured to the empty space beside her, and she nodded softly.

"I was just hoping that you would talk with me, is that all right?" Alistair asked quietly.

Wynne looked vaguely concerned, and affixed an assessing gaze on him. "What is the matter, Alistair? You have been quieter since your injury than you were before it."

"Ah, yes, about that." Alistair brought his right arm to scratch the back of his head bashfully. "That's actually what I want to talk to you about."

Wynne looked somewhat skeptical. "All right, then. What is troubling you?"

"Not a trouble, exactly." Alistair hedged, and the spirit tried not to want to roll her eyes. "More like a niggling question I have."

"I excel at answering trivial questions, Alistair." Wynne said, patiently waiting for him to get to his point.

The spirit rather loved her for that. This woman seemed very nice, when you weren't on the wrong end of her staff.

"Do you ever feel like there are good spirits watching over you?" Alistair blurted out awkwardly.

'Hey, you're doing well.' The spirit encouraged him. 'Just stay calm. It's all right.'

Alistair stopped twitching a bit, and nervously looked up at Wynne, who appeared to be in shock.

After a few moments, Wynne recovered. "And why do you say that, Alistair?"

Alistair hesitated, and the spirit waited patiently. He was more than able to do this on his own, and the sooner he learned that, the sooner he'd stop fearing to make the decisions he must.

"I think – no, I know- that day, I was touched by a spirit. Not a demon, Wynne, not at all. The spirit saved me and pulled me back from the Fade, and has been with me ever since."

He swallowed hard and they both waited in silence for the answer they hoped would come.

'I really hope that you're right, spirit.' Alistair thought nervously. 'Otherwise, I don't think this ends well for us.'

'I am right, Alistair.' She reassured him. 'I know the spirit is within her. Just not her level of cooperation or knowledge. We'd never know without asking, and we'll need her help to close the Veil in those places. You're doing the right thing.'

"I think you may be right." Wynne said somewhat breathlessly next to them, and Alistair cracked a relieved smile.

"And you don't think I'm an abomination?" He asked her, searching her face for any indication of condemnation.

Wynne shook her head. "No, Alistair, I do not think you are an abomination. May I tell you something as well?"

Alistair nodded his head, relieved that this was going mostly as initially hoped. Wynne leaned closer, and Alistair leaned in as well.

"I think something very similar may have happened to me in the Tower, not long before I met you."

"Before we arrived?" Alistair asked. Neither of them had been able to guess when it had happened for Wynne. Time was a screwy thing in the Fade, and Alistair hadn't determined a point at which a spirit may have deemed it necessary to save Wynne's life.

Wynne nodded again, a bit more firmly this time. "When I fought a demon earlier, to save the apprentices… I died, Alistair."

"You… died? But you're all right now, right?" Alistair began to panic again, but Wynne put her hand on his shoulder and he quieted.

"Yes, for the time being I am fine. But I did die, Alistair, and a spirit saved me. For most of my life, I have always felt this presence when I was in the Fade. It helped me to know that I would be all right, regardless of what the Fade had in store for me. I believe that spirit- a spirit of Faith - is the one that saved me in the Tower."

"Is it with you now?" Alistair asked quietly, cocking his head.

Wynne nodded very seriously. "It is with me always now. It is keeping me alive, Alistair. But my time is running out. I do not know how long it will be able to sustain me here in the land of the living."

Alistair nodded and bit his lip. "But you don't know how long that could take. It could take another decade or so for your spirit to go away."

Wynne shrugged, and still managed to make the gesture look dignified.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it will happen tomorrow. There is no way to know."

The spirit nudged Alistair a bit. 'She has much longer than that, so long as she uses it wisely. But we must ask her about the gates to the Fade, Alistair. She is a woman who does not leave things unfinished, and would dislike us to not at least ask her, I think.'

Alistair coughed awkwardly. "My spirit says you have a long time, if you are good to your spirit. And she wants me to ask you something."

Wynne looked slightly disturbed. "Yours can talk?"

Alistair shrugged. "Mine is very old. Actually, up until yesterday, she was the one everyone had been talking to. She's been running things for me since that day, and it's been slow for me to get back."

Comprehension suddenly dawned upon Wynne's face, and she let out a distinctly unladylike snort.

"So she's the one that tried to put Sten's cookies in the stewpot?"

Alistair snorted right with her. "She's still mortified about that, actually. She swears that she used to be decent at cooking, once."

Wynne giggled, but seemed incredibly curious. "So, aside from all the questions I'd love to ask you and your new friend, what is her request?"

Alistair blushed lightly, and tensed his shoulders. "Actually, it's also mine. She told me that the Veil around the Circle of Magi was incredibly torn while we were there, and all the spirits were panicking about it."

Wynne seemed distinctly more curious at that, but gestured for him to go on.

"Then she mentioned that there were only two places in Thedas that had the Veil torn as badly as there."

Wynne's eyes went wide with fear.

"That's what I thought, too. So she told me that she would take me to where they were, and we could repair and close the Veil so that those places would be safe. But she says the problem is that when she accidentally came here with me, she left a large chunk of herself in the Fade. There's not enough of her here to close all of those tears by herself. It takes time to recuperate that we wouldn't have, while demons swarmed out of the tears."

Wynne's jaw set in a line, and nodded sharply.

"So she told you she would need the assistance of another Fade spirit, correct? And that they would be able to repair these tears in the Veil?"

Alistair nodded, and swallowed nervously again.

"Where are they?" Wynne demanded authoritatively.

"She says that they're both actually kind of on our way to Denerim. The first is in Soldier's Peak, and the other is in a place called the Blackmarsh, near Amaranthine."

They could both tell that Wynne recognized the names, because her eyes set hard and she rose immediately.

"Alistair, I will absolutely never share your secret unless you tell me to, but the other information needs to be shared with your fellow Grey Warden as soon as possible. We should be near Soldier's Peak soon, if that merchant is right, and it is now a priority, rather than a side errand to be accomplished at a later date."

He nodded in agreement, and Wynne went to rouse Elissa from her tent.

After a short (which would have been surprising if the demand hadn't come from Wynne) discussion, Elissa nodded her head firmly as well.

"This is actually a very good idea for multiple reasons. Soldier's Peak was the former headquarters of the Grey Wardens before they were expelled from Ferelden, and they might have information and resources we desperately need. We don't even know how to attempt the Joining, or how to kill the Archdemon. And the idea of leaving demons unchecked to enter Ferelden at will is abhorrent. The Blackmarsh is still actually not that far out of our way to Denerim, either. Whatever goods we recover will be able to be sold in Denerim for supplies we need."

"And Wynne? Alistair?"

The people in question gave her their undivided attention, even though they were the only ones she'd been addressing in the first place.

After nodding their assent, she continued brusquely. "Are there any other matters I need to attend to tonight?"

There were not.

"Good. Get some sleep, you two." With that, she crawled back into her tent and almost immediately fell to lightly snoring again. Alistair snorted, and Wynne still couldn't quite hold back a smile.