I still own nothing!

"I told you the sodding thing talked!" Oghren bellows as I help the man we'd just saved to his feet.

"I wasn't arguing with you Oggie," I blow out a weary sigh and shift my attention to the unfamiliar warrior, "And who might you be Ser?"

"My apologies Commander, I am Varel, your new seneschal," he declares while performing a low bow, "I was sent to oversee the goings on of the arling for you until a new arl can be appointed."

"Lovely," I sarcastically respond, then start towards the stairwell. Once down in the ravaged courtyard, I look to Mhairi, "Tell Gavin that he and Becca will be in charge of clean up. You, Mischa, and Jayden will be aiding the wounded. I want to wash the blood off of my face, then I'll start looking into shoring up our defenses."

"Yes Ser," the woman salutes and darts off, the clang of armor echoing after her.

"You know, the courtyard looks quite lovely, in a macabre sort of way, " the blonde mage from earlier banters a few minutes later as he saunters up to the water barrel I'd been using to wash the worst of the gore off, "It's like walking through a park, except with darkspawn decorations! You really have to give me the name of your decorator."

"Why are you still here?" I bat a few soggy strands of crimson out of my eyes and leer at the mage, "I thought that, with no Templars around to keep you occupied, this place would have already been a distant memory for you."

"What can I say?" he dips his red stained hands into the bucket I'd just finished with and begins scrubbing them, "After not chopping me into pieces when you found me, it would have been bad manners to up and leave like that. Of course, that might be why the Templars keep finding me. Anders, you are just too nice sometimes..."

"Yes well, you are more than welcome to stay the night," I offer, handing him the pseudo clean bit of cloth I had used to dry my face with, "It'll smell like darkspawn for a while yet, but there will be a roof over your head that isn't a tower or a jail cell."

"Are you always this trusting with strange mages?" his tone is humorous, but his chocolate eyes betray true inquisitiveness.

I call on my magic negating powers, then laugh as astonishment takes over his expression, "Don't worry Anders, I've learned to take care of myself over the years."

His eyes never move from my hands as the blue glow dissipates, "What about the lyrium addiction?"

"What lyrium addiction? You can't grow dependent on something you don't use," I qualify as I walk over to the steps and sit before motioning for him to join me, "Another Grey Warden-one trained as a Templar-discovered shortly after he joined the Grey that he could still use his powers without ingesting the nasty stuff. We've since come to the conclusion that the Chantry uses lyrium to keep the Templars in line."

"So your not a big fan of the Chantry, I'm guessing?" he queries as he lowers himself onto the step below mine.

I shrug a shoulder and observe the progress of the clean up for a few minutes before answering, "The Chantry showed its true colors to us after we killed the archdemon. Sent a sodding missive explaining what we were going to say and how we were going to say it. Evidently they're not too keen on the masses learning the real reason we have Blights. Anyways, after reading the letter, I laughed in the face of the Sister who delivered it, then told her to inform the Revered Mother that she could kiss my arse. My brother was a bit vexed with me for that."

"I like you already Commander," he snickers, then grows serious, "So you know the truth about the Blights?"

"They originally started when a couple of Tevinter mages decided to play god and corrupted seven ancient dragons while they slept. The darkspawn were a side effect of those rituals. They are the ones who found the first archdemon and woke it up. I'm sorry to say that it's been a vicious cycle ever since."

At my words, he looks like his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, "Are you telling me that dragons are archdemons?"

"Not all dragons," I hastily explain, trying to soothe his rising panic, "Just the original seven. And since we just killed the fifth a few years ago, there are only two left."

I watch him as he watches his hands, "How do you know all of this?"

"Because the Grey Wardens used to be a faction of the Tevinter army," I deadpan and rise back onto my aching feet, "I have to get back to work now and I'd appreciate your help. I really don't have any money to pay you at the moment, but like I said before, you're welcome to-"

"I'll be glad to stay Commander," he cuts in, miming my movements to stand before me, "Besides, who better to protect me from the religious fanatics than the legendary Commander of the Grey?"

"Welcome aboard then Ser," I pat his shoulder, then whistle for the black mabari who is digging yet another hole to who knows where, "Havoc, come help me clean up this mess and there'll be a juicy bone with your name on it later!"

The shadowy war hound yips excitedly and proceeds to bounce in circles around us as we make our way across the grounds.

Later that night, those left with no rooms lounge about in the main hall, eating, talking, or resting on the cots Varel had the servants erect. I sit near the fire-away from the others-pondering how my husband is fairing under Wynne's matronly watch and if the procedure had been a success or not. With one hand absently stroking the ring hanging from its chain and the other rubbing my four legged best friend's proffered belly, it is through sheer experience that I manage to hide my shock when a steaming mug is suddenly shoved in my face.

"Share a drink with me Commander?" Anders queries, and presses the mug into my hands before I can protest, then drops to the rug beside me while I gape at him, "I hate drinking alone, even if it's just tea."

"You know that you don't have to call me that, I'm not in charge of you," I tell him after taking a sip of the soothing brew.

"What, Commander? I don't see why I should be the exception to the rule here," he reclines back on his elbows and gazes at the flames dancing in the hearth, "I do it out of respect, not obligation. And since I usually loathe people in positions of power on principle, you should count yourself lucky."

"Oh, and modest as well? My brother would love you," I smirk, knowing how much fun Zevran could have with this man.

"Really? What is he, some kind of ax wielding bard who has a soft spot for apostates?" his voice is already beginning to sound drowsy as the events of the day begin to take their toll on the man.

"Not really," I admit, squirming around to lay my head on the canine's belly, "He's more of a 'bed anything that moves then brag to me about it later' type. If you stick around for a few weeks, I imagine that you will get to meet him."

"I don't know, sounds a bit stabby for my taste," he surmises sleepily-his head dropping to the floor-then is quiet until a soft snore escapes.

I finish my tea in silence, then rouse Havoc so I can check up on the others, who are largely asleep or close to it. "Looks like we're on duty first," I surmise while pulling my cloak on and the mabari answers with a snort as we pad out into the damp night.

The hours go by relatively peacefully, until I'm standing on the eastern battlements staring out into the loch.

"Commander, we've caught an intruder," the seneschal's educated tone is out of place amongst the serenity all around me.

My thoughts veer off course, towards my elven brother, and I rush passed Varel, down the escarpment, and in the direction of the jail after the elder man yells it to me.

Captain Garavel greets me with a somber visage as I enter, "We found him slinking about where the others we sleeping. It seems that he was looking for someone specific, but refuses to tell us who."

"Of course I was looking for someone, you witless waste of space," a vaguely recognizable voice growls from the cell at the back of the room, "I was looking for that murderous bitch, and you brought her right to me, how thoughtful."

I lean around the soldier to see a tall man with shoulder length brown hair and a venous expression that is partially hidden behind a smear of blood and a large bruise that is starting to form on the left side of his forehead.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Lexie Cousland, all grown up. How does it feel, knowing that you destroyed my life?"

;-) yeah, I know I'm evil.