They traveled to Highever with three companies of the royal Fereldan guard. Small groups continually broke off as they traveled, stopping to scout damaged areas, help what citizens they could, and repress bandit activity. While the citizens were better off without the darkspawn, the human kind of monsters still existed in large numbers.

Elissa took whatever opportunities she could to fight alongsid them, wanting to hone and refresh her battle skills before the true war. While she'd trained daily in the castle yards, nothing beat the experience of warring with someone who really wanted to kill you, and she felt herself returning to form slowly over the journey.

Plus when she followed them into battle, Alistair remained behind, and she could avoid him much more easily.

They'd barely talked since the day in the garden, and they'd never been alone together. This was partially through circumstance - they were both busy, constantly surrounded by people - but it was also by design. Her design. She wasn't ready to confront any of what had happened between them, not because she was afraid, but because she had no answers to give to the questions he would ask.

She laid awake each night arguing with herself. That she was attracted to him wasn't in doubt. She watched him move through the men at the front of the columns, handling a horse like he'd been born to it though they scared him witless. Even from this distance he was handsome. He'd done little more than test the waters with her, a phase she'd moved past with the kitchen boys well before she'd been allowed to speak to a noble son, but her body still wondered what might have come next.

And then she countered herself, arguing it had been so long since she'd been with someone that any man would be able to elicit the same reaction. Her buried heart then joined the fight, protesting that it wasn't true. Something about his shyness, the way he didn't push, was captivating in its unfamiliarity. He was the most powerful man in the kingdom, and he hadn't demanded anything from her.

At least in a sexual sense. He ordered her around plenty when he had a mind to do it. She never forgot that even if she wanted to leave his side, she couldn't, by his command. Could she truly be grateful for the freedom to choose her bedmates if he denied her the freedom to choose her bed?

Worse, it was clear that his anger at her ran deep, for all it wasn't always visible, and wouldn't be easily dismissed. Her own cultivated anger was no more controllable. But despite this field trip, his life wouldn't be war and battle, but parties and peace. There would be no outlet for either of them, and that wasn't a role she wanted to play. And other women would relish it. They would be better political partners for him than she would.

She tried not to think about the other kind of partnership that would go along with it.

If he'd be willing to explore the physical without the extra pressure of the future, it would be easier, but he wouldn't. She'd seen in traveling with him that he joked constantly to pull attention away from the fact that he took so many things seriously. It was one of the things that had made them fight well, both beside and against each other. No, he would want something more.

So she was no closer to a decision, and no closer to wanting to talk about it.

Leliana rode with her on the last leg of their journey and gave her polite hell. "You're being quite cruel to him, you know. He's very handsome and royal up there, but his eyes are just like a lost puppy's."

Elissa growled. "That's not my fault. We haven't had a chance to talk."

Leliana rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut up," said Elissa.

"I said nothing, Lady Cousland."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"Our Lord King decreed that your title be restored to you immediately," said Leliana. "I simply follow the correct protocol when addressing a lady of higher rank."

"Now you can definitely shut up."

Leliana eyed her. "What distresses you so much about being noble? You're very good at it. Not just the parts where you're well-behaved, but the parts where you know how and when to stop behaving. I was impressed with your performance at the coronation."

"It's not something I want to be good at anymore." Elissa paused as her horse navigated around a hole in the road. "Lady Elissa Cousland died with her family. The Hero of Fereldan doesn't play noble games."

"Not all her family. Your brother lives."

She flinched.

"You're not happy?" asked Leliana.

"I was. I am. I'm glad he survived. But his family died in my care," said Elissa, forcing her voice to stay steady. "If he'd been there, everything might have been different. He was always stronger than me, better. He kept his men alive for months in a place swarming with darkspawn. Howe's men would have fallen to him."

"You think he'll blame you."

Elissa nodded, so slightly that she wasn't sure her head moved. But Leliana always saw the things that were too small to notice.

"Elissa, you're not to blame," she said. "I don't know your brother, but if he's anything like you, he would be the last to lay fault at the feet of someone who doesn't deserve it. Honorable people don't."

She hoped the bard was right. She didn't doubt her brother's honor, but she'd survived where his wife and son didn't. That wasn't easy to forgive. Maker knew she'd never forgive herself for it.

The night after their escape, she and Duncan had made camp in a remote corner of Highever, in a clearing that provided both vantage points and cover. He'd taken first watch, and during her later one she'd sat unmoving, the faces of the dead her only company. She'd almost killed Duncan that night. Knowing what she knew about Grey Wardens now, she doubted he'd slept as deeply as he'd appeared to, but at the time he'd seemed so vulnerable, that legendary warrior. The man who'd made her leave her parents to die, for his cause. As if any cause could be that important.

Of course, he'd made the right choice. Short-sighted and immature, she'd needed the awakening he'd given her, the demonstration that hardness and cruelty were not the same. She was glad she'd done nothing more than leave a memorial for the dead in that clearing. She hoped she could go back and leave one for Duncan as well once they'd retaken her home.

The columns slowed in front of them, and she saw Alistair signaling that they were ready. She started to spur her mount around, to move to the front, but Leliana restrained her. "You speak as though you're two people. You aren't. You're both lady and hero. And if you don't believe me, watch his face when you're near. He cares for them both."

They left their mounts behind in the care of the grooms. Elissa had sent most of the soldiers around to flank the main castle, directing them through the fields around the estate proper. They had marks of passage, Cousland-stamped, that she hoped would make her people give them aid or at least no resistance. A smaller force stayed with her to distract at the gates including Leliana, Alistair, Zevran and Fergus.

Their reunion had been too brief, but her heart was lighter for it. Fergus had ruffled her hair and called her little sister, even if they both looked much older than their years now. Their grief had been a physical thing, but one that they could finally share in a space made only for them. He knew what had happened, but he hadn't blamed her. And when she called for the advance, she knew her eyes reflected the same hardness she saw in his.

To her surprise, when they reached the keep, the gates were open and manned by only two guards. She slowed, confused, as another guard walked through them.

No, not a guard. He didn't walk with their swinging gait, moving instead like a man used to command. He carried no weapon and approached with hands open at his sides. Elissa narrowed her eyes as she saw the ring on his finger.

Fergus swore next to her, confirming her suspicions. "Thomas Howe," he said.

Leliana covered him with her bow, and Zevran reached behind his back to grip a dagger.

His steps never faltered. He stopped ten feet from them and knelt. "My King. Teyrn Cousland. Lady Cousland." His voice was high and clear, like a boy's, and she remembered with shock that he was two years younger than her. "I hereby surrender Highever and all her grounds to your keeping and submit myself to your justice. It's yours by right. I ask that you not harm any of my people. They are good men who have followed orders faithfully. They won't fight you."

And then there was silence.

Alistair had never been at more of a loss. The one comfort was that the rest of the party seemed equally as confused for once. He wondered if he should accept the surrender. Was there a special speech for that?

While he was thinking, Fergus snarled. "Your men killed my wife and son, you piece of hound shit. They won't escape their punishment."

Thomas looked up. "I executed the men responsible for the slaughter personally, Teyrn, after I took command of this place from my father. They were not my men. Their savagery was unforgivable, and you may rest assured they've been suitably punished."

Elissa stepped forward. Alistair noticed with slight irritation that she stepped in such a way that she would be in the sightlines of any archers who might be aiming at them, shielding him in particular. He made a note to berate her whenever she decided to start talking to him again.

"Why haven't you left this place, if you believe it's ours by right?" she asked in a bland voice. "Your father died long ago."

"Yes, my lady. I grieved to hear of his death," said Thomas, bowing his head. "If you survived the Blight, I knew you would return to Highever to claim it. If you didn't, I couldn't leave your people unprotected. Without my men in residence, bandits or worse would have come for them. They'd been entrusted to my care."

"If you heard of your father's death, you know it was at my hands. Why should we trust this surrender?"

The boy, for that was all he was, spoke quietly. "I loved my father, but he was not a perfect man. I lived in this place, rebuilt it, and I saw what was done to it and its citizens in the name of his ambition. Loving is not the same as forgiving. He, too, was suitably punished," he said. He took a deep breath. "But if you like, take me as hostage. Walk me into each room first, in case of traps. My life is yours. I don't expect your trust."

Fergus moved forward and prodded the boy with his sword. Thomas rose and walked back towards the castle, step still measured and calm. Alistair admired his bravery and, in spite of his companion's constant lessons in cynicism, trusted him for it.

When they all stepped through the gates, they found his men arrayed in formation, weaponless, and in a clear attitude of surrender. Their faces were afraid but resolute, and Leliana and Zevran, the two most attuned to trickery, made the hand signals that indicated friends. The party started to relax until shouts came from the hall, and a group of armed men appeared at its entrance.

"You dumb brat," said their leader. "Your surrender will get us all killed. You think they'll show mercy?"

The rest of them growled, shaking their heads.

The leader grinned. "But noble hostages, there's a mercy enough for any man. You," he said, pointing at Fergus, "surrender to us, and we'll go easy on your women. Fight, and you won't know how hard they'll take us."

Alistair didn't even have time to tell the man how outclassed he was before Zevran's dagger caught him in the throat and pandemonium broke loose.

He absently noted that the unarmed guards raced in front of Thomas and knocked him over, shielding him from the attackers. Elissa rushed the bottleneck of the hall doors and he raced to catch her, keeping the men in front of them trapped. She yelled out a command to cover the other doors, and Fergus ran around one corner while Zevran took the other, both trailed by guards. Leliana's arrows whistled past his head at dizzying speeds, and his own sword flashed even faster as Elissa settled into a familiar rhythm next to him. By the time Zevran and Fergus came up behind the men, there was little left to do but clean up.

Alistair sheathed his sword and looked down at the nameless, dying leader. "That really was very stupid of you."

Leliana's final arrow pinned the man to the floor, and Alistair turned back to the rest of the Howe men. They looked afraid but also weren't looking at him, instead focused on Thomas as he struggled to stand.

"My lord, I mean my King, I swear they acted alone," said the boy. "They were the last of my father's men. Please don't hold the rest of them responsible. It was my failure."

"Calm down. Stop trying to throw yourself on a sword that's not there. Maker's Breath but you nobles are self-defeating. I see where you get it," Alistair said to Elissa, "all this sacrifice for the greater good nonsense."

"It's only nonsense to the ignorant," she replied coolly.

"Which I certainly am and hope to always be. Thomas Howe, I accept your surrender of Highever and her lands. I take you into custody as a prisoner of the Crown, to face judgment in Denerim for your crimes and your family's. Your men will be taken as well, to determine the extent of their complicity, but left unharmed. This I swear by the Theirin name and by all my ancestors, including the ones on the side of the blanket we don't acknowledge."

He turned to Leliana as his guards moved to follow his instructions. "There, did I do that right? I felt like a bit of an idiot."

She sighed. "You did very well up until the end, Your Majesty. As usual."

They searched Highever carefully and found no traps or other malfeasance, not that he'd expected any. The halls still showed signs of Cousland and Howe battle but had been cleaned and repaired as much as possible. The residents themselves seemed wary but mostly unharmed. All of them were overjoyed to see Fergus and Elissa, sometimes weeping and other times praying to the Maker in thanks for His blessings.

Fergus was able to respond to their fealty easily, already settling into his role as ruler, though Alistair noticed he continually looked around as if expecting to see his father take over at any moment. Elissa's smiles held more back. She often looked at seemingly unremarkable spaces on the floor and Alistair wondered if she was seeing memories of the dead. When they reached the kitchen with its secret passage she'd told them all about on their travels, she went no further and retreated into herself.

Alistair wanted to go to her, despite what was unsettled between them, to try to coax some life back into her eyes, but he knew from her face no one would be welcome. She was at her most statue-like, here.

She chilled again when they reached the family wing, and he insisted that soldiers sweep it before allowing her and Fergus to enter alone. She protested the caution, but he wouldn't take chances with her life. Once it was pronounced clear, they waited outside as the siblings entered. Leliana leaned against the wall and studied the door as if she could see things written on it that no one else could. Alistair paced uselessly and annoyed Zevran.

After some time, Fergus emerged with red eyes. He tried to smile. "It's okay. It all looks… quite normal. Nothing of theirs is left, really. It's as though they were never there. Please enter if you wish."

He walked away, and Alistair saw a ribbon clenched in his fist.

The group showed no inclination to enter, but Elissa was still inside, alone, and he didn't hesitate. He wandered through the empty halls and rooms, looking for her. At last he found her sitting on a bed in a side room, dry-eyed.

She made no objection when he sat next to her, which worried him. He waited quietly, wondering if she knew he was there.

Eventually she spoke. "This was my room."

He stayed silent.

She pointed at the floor. "A man died there. He tried to protect me from Howe's soldiers. He had no weapons, no fighting skills. He was a fool. He died quickly." Shadows stole her eyes. "My mabari ripped one of the men's throats out. I knifed another in the gut with the dagger from my nightstand. He died slowly." Triumph lit her face. "He was my first kill."

"It wasn't your fault," he said. "Any of it."

"I know," she said. "I should have stopped it anyway." She laughed suddenly, wildly. "I was almost betrothed to Thomas Howe. His father talked to me about it just that afternoon. I dismissed him. I flirted with Duncan instead, right in front of him. I wonder, if I'd accepted the offer, would they still have attacked?"

"Yes."

Elissa looked at him for the first time. "You're probably right," she said. "There's nothing here for me. Fergus is welcome to it."

She stood and walked out of the room. He remained, looking at his hands. It would have been easier if she'd cried.