-o-

Of all the people Stroud recruited over the years, the one Naomi least expected was her cousin. Bethany Hawke was still in the thrall of her Joining when she arrived at Vigil's Keep, but she would survive. Stroud carried her to the room that had been Velanna's. The bed was unmade but still hers, with its grass green blanket turned down and rumpled.

"It was a near thing, this one," Stroud said. He laid her out on a bed and checked her pulse before standing straight. "I though I might have to kill her before the Joining, but she pulled through."

Bethany's eyes opened briefly; they reflected back at Naomi like mirrors, dark and wide as her own. Naomi knelt beside her. "Where did you find her?"

"In Kirkwall. In the Deep Roads." Stroud grunted. "With Anders, incidentally."

Naomi looked up and her lip trembled. "Anders is alive?"

"Mmm. I did not have enough men with me to kill him." Naomi scowled at him, and he shrugged back at her. "He murdered good men, Commander. I suppose I should have asked him to tea?"

Her scowl turned into a glare. Naomi wanted to tell him that he had no right to judge them, that he did not know either Anders or Justice when they were both whole, but some part of her knew that Stroud was right and so she did not speak. He could not sway her if she did not argue.

She felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Alistair knelt beside her and nodded at Bethany. "So this is your cousin?"

Naomi nodded. She had given up hope on ever meeting her kin, and yet here was her cousin, suddenly deposited into her care.

That night she heard shrieking as the nightmares dug their claws into Bethany's dreams. "Do you want me to come with you?" Alistair asked. Naomi shook her head. She had done this many times before.

Naomi remembered how Velanna had screamed and raged after her Joining, how she had blamed the shems and the gods and even her sister, sometimes, when the nightmares were most keen. Naomi drew water from the well. She walked to Velanna's room and looked down at the stranger thrashing in Velanna's bed.

"Bethany wake up," Naomi said. She shook her gently until Bethany sat bolt upright and clutched her hand. Naomi squeezed back. "You're in Vigil. You're safe."

"I was a darkspawn," Bethany gasped. "I was clawing at stone with my fingers. There was a song. I needed to find the song, but the air was so thick..." Her eyes glistened in the dark. "I thought I would never breathe again."

Naomi sat beside her on the bed. "The nightmares come from the taint," she explained softly. She handed her the glass of water. "You'll learn to ignore them in time."

Bethany sipped at the glass, slowly, until it was drained, and then she set it down on a nightstand. She wiped her eyes. "What else do I need to know about being a Warden?" she asked.

Naomi took a deep breath. She wondered how many more times she would give this speech.

"Grey Wardens hunt darkspawn. You are bound to their blood for the rest of your life." Naomi swallowed. "Which won't be very long. The taint in your blood will kill you before you turn fifty, if you survive that long. You're also barren, most likely, and you will be hungry every moment you're awake." She added, "I'm sorry."

Bethany stared into the space between them. She hooked her arms around her knees and tucked her chin to her chest. "It's not your fault," she said.

Naomi frowned. She was much more comfortable when they were angry. She was reminded of her own reaction when Alistair had told her, of how she had closed into herself and tried too hard to be polite, and she wanted to shake her.

"Stroud says you're my cousin," Naomi said.

Bethany nodded. "Mother would talk about you sometimes. You and your sisters were her favorite cautionary tale. I don't know their names, but your mother's name was Revka." She touched her fingers to her cheek and looked away, remembering her own mother, perhaps. "Do you remember her?"

Naomi shook her head. She could remember flashes, but the name meant nothing. She did not remember the Hawkes, either, and she did not know how Bethany was supposed to fit into her life. They sat in silence.

"You can go now," Bethany said. She managed a smile, and after a moment Naomi padded back to her room.

"How is she?" Alistair asked, when she climbed back into bed with him.

"She's good," Naomi said. She pulled the covers up to her chin. "And nice. She's very nice."

And she was as close to an actual sister as Naomi was ever likely to find, and yet Naomi was alarmed to realize that she did not love her straight away. She worried that she had given away too much of herself over the years, so that she had nothing left to give any more, even to her own blood.

In her wakefulness, Naomi crawled out of her bed and curled up in a chair by the smoldering embers of their fire. In its dying light, she reached for Morrigan's book.

She studied the cover before opening it. It was bound in dark leather and inscribed with a script she did not recognize: elvhen, she thought, or something older. It was a book of ancient magic, so pure and powerful that her fingers tingled just to touch it. She flipped through the pages and breathed in the musty spells.

One section in particular caught her interest.

The art of apparition has always been sovereign and tantalizing even among the magic user's gifts. However, what to the eyes of the uninitiated appears to be a simple disappearance is actually a transcendental unity with the Fade. With the proper application of will and lyrium, it is possible to remove an object, a person, even a whole city, from this mortal plane...

As Naomi picked over the arcane words, she began to form a picture in her mind of the place where Morrigan had gone. Another place, beyond this world and beyond the Fade. Naomi looked at the elvhen book in her hands and she thought it must be Arlathan. At first she thought it might be the Golden City, but the more she read, the more she realized the two cities were one and the same. A beautiful city lost to its people but still extant, somewhere, like Morrigan herself.

Later in the courtyard, she tossed lightning back and forth with Bethany, testing her strength. Her magic smelled like baking bread. "Do you know we have an estate in Kirkwall?" Bethany asked, between charges. "My sister just bought it back from slavers."

"I have an estate, right here," Naomi said. She looked up at the parapets of Vigil's Keep and waved. "This is my estate. I'm an Arlessa, you know."

"But not really," Bethany said. "The Amells are true nobles. We go back four hundred years."

Naomi did not know how to respond to that, and after a pause Bethany cast another lightning bolt. It was not strong enough, but Naomi reminded herself that Bethany was still young and she was still learning.

"It's so sad that we both grew up in Fereldan so far away from our birthright, and yet we never knew each other." Bethany leaned against her staff. "If my father had only known you were in the Fereldan Circle, I'm sure he would have gone to rescue you. He was a revolutionary, you know, like Anders."

Naomi realized that she had not asked about him yet. "How is Anders?"

"He's wonderful." Bethany smiled fondly. "I don't care what Stroud says. Anders does good work for the people of Kirkwall, although he tortures himself with guilt. His eyes are so sad..." Naomi looked at her curiously, and Bethany blushed. "Yes, I suppose I had a bit of a crush," she admitted. "I don't think he ever noticed. Nobody ever sees me when I'm standing next to Marian."

Naomi quirked an brow. "Does Anders have feelings for your sister?" Bethany nodded, and Naomi's eyes went wide. She did not think that Justice would allow such frivolity. "Does you sister feel the same way?"

"Maker, yes." Bethany pushed off her staff. "They haven't admitted it yet, of course, but it's only a matter of time."

So Anders had fallen in love. Naomi found herself smiling, in spite of everything. She began to imagine that Anders might come home again, not to Amaranthine, but to his own home somewhere with Marian. A man with a home was a man who could be saved. Naomi felt lighter than she had since he had gone, and she dared to hope that things might turn out all right after all.

-o-

Over the next two years Bethany grew stronger. Her healing would never match Anders, and she did not take to shapeshifting, but she had her own skills in force magic that were useful in a fight. Naomi was cleaning up after a particularly messy practice session when Stroud approached her.

"I'm taking an contingent of Wardens to Kirkwall," he said. "The Deep Roads are very old there, perhaps the oldest in Thedas. I have reason to believe that they are the source of the corruption."

Naomi looked up. She thought she might like to go to Kirkwall. She could go to see Anders, and meet her other cousin, and wish them well and try her best to make amends. "When do we leave?"

"Ah, not we, I'm afraid." Naomi frowned, and the Orlesian stroked his long moustache. "We can't have you risking your life all the time. How would it look if the Hero of Ferelden died in some northern backwater?" He clicked his tongue.

"I can handle myself," Naomi said. "I killed an Archdemon, remember."

"Yes, and Weisshaupt is grateful for everything you've done. You've earned this time to relax. " He clapped his hand on her shoulder and squeezed down hard. Naomi winced. "It would be better for you to stay here, where everyone can see you. Perhaps Garevel should arrange a few parties."

Naomi squirmed in his grip. "You can't leave me beh—"

"What? Are you going to storm the docks at Amaranthine and force yourself onto my ship? My Wardens would stop you." He released her shoulder and pushed her back. "You're staying here, Naomi."

Naomi stared at him in horror. His ship. His Wardens. She looked down at her hands. "Oh. Yes, I see."

When she found Alistair packing in her room it nearly broke her. It looked like he was packing everything he owned. He dropped a fistful of clothing when he saw her.

"I don't know what the weather's like in Kirkwall," he explained.

"He's taking you?" Naomi did not know why she was surprised.

Alistair looked abashed. "I don't have to go," he said. He crossed the room to her, and she rested her head on his shoulder; he smoothed her hair with his hand. "I don't think I'm breaking rank if my Commander tells me to stay."

"I'm not so sure about that," Naomi said. She pulled away. "You should go. Keep on eye on Stroud for me will you?"

Alistair nodded and he bent his head to kiss her. He kissed her again the next morning in the courtyard, pulling her tight against him and claiming her mouth, as though it was the last kiss he might ever give her. She felt small and lost in his embrace. Stroud arrived with Nathaniel and Bethany and some others she didn't recognize, and Naomi broke the kiss. She stood on the steps and watched the Wardens leave.

Days later, Naomi walked through a nearly abandoned Vigil and accepted that she was not in control. She had not guarded her command, and so it had been taken from her. The Hero of Ferelden was only a symbol, like the statue of Andraste in the courtyard, or the griffon on the prow of Stroud's ship. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Two weeks after the others had gone, Cody chased a rabbit down the stairs and he fell. His hip broke in three places. The mabari was as much a part of her as her fists or her teeth, but after three hours of failed healing Naomi accepted defeat. He had been barking at shadows lately; she thought she knew why he fell. The Calling came earlier for dogs than for humans.

Oghren touched her shoulder. "I can do it," the dwarf offered.

Naomi shook her head and wiped tears away roughly. "No," she said. "He's my dog." She cast frost to numb the pain and then she petrified his heart. She felt the bond between them break.

Naomi buried Cody beneath the stoop where he liked to sleep, then stumbled back to her own empty bed. She pushed her face into her pillow and realized that this was not her home any more. This was not even her world anymore, and she thought maybe it had not been her world since the day she slew the Archdemon.

She was meant to have died that day. Without Morrigan she would have been pulled past the Veil, and she felt that place tugging at her heart. That place beyond this world and beyond the Fade.

She reached for Morrigan's book and traced the inscriptions with her fingers. The boy with the soul of an Old God must be four years old by now, Naomi thought. She wished she could have met him. In her mind she named him Jacob. He had Alistair's nose and his laugh.

She imagined Morrigan with this small child in her arms, on the run from some terrible danger. And then she imagined herself with that child, and she imagined how alone she would feel. Her heart ached for her lost sister. Morrigan could never ask for help, not out loud, not even during the Blight. Her magic always smelled like frankincense, but when she was out of mana it smelled like frankincense thrown on a fire. Naomi thought she remembered the smell of ash in that cave.

The tome was heavy in her hands. If Morrigan had not wanted her to find her, she would never have given her these clues. It was as close to an apology as the witch was ever likely to give. Naomi pushed herself to her feet.

She went to great hall and found the trunk by the door. There were things in here that she had not touched since she arrived in Amaranthine; she pulled out Wade's old drakeskin armor and chuckled. Naomi did not even know why she had kept it, but it was time to put such things aside. She carefully unpacked all her gear and sorted it into three piles: one to sell, one to leave to the Wardens, and one pile to take.

"Can I help you?" Garevel asked. She had not heard the seneschal enter, and there was a note of concern in his voice.

"Yes." Naomi straightened. "I need you to draw up some paperwork to make sure that Bethany is my sole heir." She expected that Stroud would seize the title of Arl, but she still had enough to her name that her cousin should find it worthwhile. "I want her to be comfortable when I'm gone."

"Yes, of course," Garevel said. He looked confused, but the seneschal was too proper to ask her for more information, and Naomi made her way back to her room. She would leave in the morning. She did not have an Eluvian, and she did not really know how to get to Arlathan, but she thought the forests of northern Tevinter would be a good place to start. The only question was whether she would make a stop in Kirkwall first.

Naomi found an old backpack and filled it with her things. Her favorite blue robes, her staff, four silver rings, a floral necklace that filled her with power, six bottles of lyrium, and the old Joining chalice from Ostagar. The Chalice did not belong there. Her attachment to it was purely sentimental, and she was not sure she had room for it in her pack.

She held the cup against her chest and closed her eyes, and in her memory Alistair is there.

She does not remember if it is her tent or his, but she can feel his body warm and firm against hers and his breath is hot against her neck. It is the only fourth time they have made love and the first time it has felt right. His back arches and her body clenches and then they are both gasping into the night, shuddering in each other's arms.

Above her Alistair goes still. Cradled on her body, his weight is a delightful burden, and Naomi does not want him to move, not ever, but after a moment he rolls away. Alistair pushes his face into her cheek.

"Maker," he breathes. "That was..."

"Yeah," she says, feeling profound. He lets out a throaty laugh.

Naomi feels lightheaded and she does not know if this is normal. She does not care to find out. She has never been in love before, and does not think she could ever love anyone else. Her experience with Alistair this year has been so separate from the world at large, so uniquely horrible and beautiful and strange, that no other man could ever fill the space he occupies.

"I don't know how I ever lived without you," he says, echoing her thoughts. He trails a finger down the meridian of her stomach. "I could spend the rest of my life in this tent."

Naomi smiles at him. Alistair has never been with anyone else, either. She loves that they are so perfectly naive together, but she wonders if it is the same for him. She has heard it is different for a man.

"You aren't curious about other women?" she asks.

Alistair draws back and frowns, looking wounded. "How can you ask me that? After that?" He clasps his hand against his chest. "My heart can only handle so much, Naomi."

Naomi smiles, but she is not entirely convinced. She covers his hand with hers. "You look at other women."

His frown deepens. "I look at people," he says. "I also look at dogs, and shiny things. It doesn't mean I want them. It just means I'm awake."

Naomi rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean," she says. She chews her lip and adds, "You look at Morrigan. I've seen you. I've seen you looking at her breasts."

Alistair winces, and his cheeks are already flushed but she thinks they go a little darker. "I'm sorry," he says. "I really don't mean to. They're just... right there. They draw the eye." Naomi huffs, and he squeezes her arm. "I promise I don't want Morrigan," he says, and his face pinches. "I mean, honestly... Morrigan?"

"She's all right," Naomi says. She gives him a challenging look.

Alistair makes a helpless noise. "I can't win this, can I?" Naomi tries to glare at him, but he gives her a lopsided grin and she ends up laughing instead. He kisses her lightly on the forehead. "How about this?" he offers. "I promise to like Morrigan just as much as you tell me to, how about that?"

Naomi muses for a moment. This man has chosen her, she knows, no matter where his thoughts have wandered. In the end he has always chosen her.

"I can live with that," she says, and she decided to believe it. She crawled into bed and let herself sleep, and in the morning she booked passage on a ship. The ship sailed to Kirkwall.

-o-

It was not hard to find the Wardens in Kirkwall. When Naomi reached the Free Marches she followed the call of the taint until she arrived at their camp outside the city. That many Wardens together made a lot of noise in her blood. She wondered if she would ever hear that song again.

She shifted into the bear and waited for night, when Stroud left on patrol. She found Alistair by a fire with Bethany and she shifted back to her human form.

Alistair grinned when he saw her, and Bethany stifled a shriek. "What are you doing here?"

Naomi did not answer, only ran a hand through her hair, setting it straight. She looked at Alistair. There were a few dents in his armor that she didn't remember, and there was a little blood on his boot. "What's happened?"

"There's fighting in the city," Bethany said. "The qunari invaded, and we ran into some trouble. And Marian, incidentally." She glanced over her shoulder. "Alistair gave her a necklace."

Naomi frowned. "Not my Sacred Heart?"

Alistair shifted his weight on his feet. "I didn't think—"

"I told him you'd be mad." Bethany clasped her hands in front of her and inclined her head, smirking a little. Naomi studied her a moment before she laughed.

"It's not important." She waved her hands. "Did you see Anders? How did he look?"

Alistair shrugged. "Different. But well enough, I suppose." His brow creased. "He doesn't seem to like us very much any more."

Naomi bit her lip. It hurt terribly to lose him, but she had to accept that she could never be everything for everyone. She let Anders go. Then she took a deep breath and leveled a hard look at Alistair.

"I think I know where Morrigan is," she said.

His eyes went wide. "What? How did you—"

"I never stopped looking for her. And I know in your heart you didn't either." Alistair made no sound to confirm or deny, and Naomi looked down. She smoothed her robes with her hands. "At first I didn't want to tell you, because for years I've been afraid that you were a little bit in love with her," to which Alistair started to protest, but she cut him off, adding quickly, "but then I realized that it doesn't matter, because I love her too. I love you both."

She did not wait for him to respond. "I don't want to be Warden Commander anymore," she said. "I want to be where I'm needed, and I think that means that I want to be with Morrigan and your child." Naomi swallowed. "I think you want to be there too."

She met his eyes. "But we give up everything if we do this. I don't know if we'll ever find Morrigan, but if we do, I don't think there's any coming back from where she is. I've already made my choice, but you..." Naomi let her voice trail off.

Alistair hooded his eyes, and she watched him process this sudden change of course. "If I go with you..." he began, then shook his head. "How is this going to work? If we find her... I mean, am I... are we...?"

"I'm not sure," Naomi said. "Do you want to find out?"

Alistair stared at her. After some time he nodded, and she saw that darkness pass out of his eyes. "Yes," he said. He stepped towards her and smiled warmly, and when he stood beside her she found herself smiling back.

"But—" Bethany looked from Naomi to Alistair and back again. "You can't just go. At least stay to meet Marian. She's just... right over there." Bethany gestured vaguely towards Kirkwall. "It doesn't seem right that you'll never know her. She's family."

Naomi considered her cousin. If she went into the city then Stroud might find her and try to stop her. She gave Bethany a half smile.

"It's more than blood that makes a family," she said. Naomi reached for Alistair. Strong calloused fingers closed around hers, and she felt as safe and loved as she ever had. She tugged his arm, and they followed after shadows, fading from the light.

-o-