Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, it's finals week. This might be kind of eh, my Alistair muse is being a little uncooperative. More to come, kids!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Bioware's.

They traveled relatively quickly in the direction of Lothering, which Morrigan had suggested as a good place to start their journey. It was a small enough town that Haelia doubted she would be recognized as anything but a Grey Warden and they were in sore need of supplies.

Typically, it would take about three and a half days to reach their destination. They moved faster than they might have under other circumstances and took less time their first night at resting, which left them less than half a days travel on the third day from their campsite.

Morrigan, as per usual, offered to take the first watch. Haelia took the middle as she slept little regardless, and Alistair was left with the last. Mather woke and slept without rhyme or reason, popping up to sniff about the campsite occasionally. Haelia lay curled on her bedroll – a flimsy blanket with her leather cuirass an uncomfortable pillow. Alistair was on his back across the distance that the dying fire provided, his eyes closed though he did not sleep. The night before Haelia had heard his sadness though she had never seen his tears. He had spoken little, if at all, since they had left the Wilds. Morrigan was not a particularly chatty individual, though occasionally she and Haelia would find something to speak about. The noble-born young woman had little desire to keep up conversation too, though, as her mind was weighed down heavily by the full truth of her situation.

They were, in short, not a very lively group. Fortunately, they had come across only three small groups of Darkspawn and made considerably quick work of them. Haelia was beginning to recognize that she was not so well-trained as she had been led to believe, despite what her brother had assured her was Duncan's interest in her skills. Thoughts of her futility kept her awake that second night, but only so long. She was dreadfully exhausted and fell into a fitful sleep.

A roaring in her ears jarred her, matched only by the occasional flash of a massive dragon. Then, a group of Darkspawn unlike any mass she had ever seen. She awoke, gasping for breath, and shot straight up.

Alistair was already standing closer than he had been laying, looking a little awkward as the firelight danced across one side of his body and face. Mather's head was raised from where he sat, a few feet away from Morrigan.

The man bent his knees and then knelt just off Haelia's bedroll.

"Nightmares?"

He spoke in such a way as to not be condescending. He was earnestly concerned and curious, the frown on his face betraying that he was familiar with such things.

Haelia hesitated before she nodded, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her legs in front of her. "Darkspawn and a giant dragon – was that the archdemon?"

Alistair nodded, "Most likely. That's one of the things that comes with the Joining, the dreams. It's the Taint in our blood – it's how we can sense the darkspawn. We hear the Archdemon too."

"There should be some kind of disclosure agreement," Haelia snorted and rubbed her eyes, momentarily distracted from her melancholy long enough to be frustrated (and slightly amused) by the predicament. "What else, though? You said 'one of the things'."

Alistair's face dropped a little but he shrugged and offered a sideways smile. "You know, the dreams, and..." Alistair frowned again.

"And...?"

"Well, the Taint affects everyone and everything. Wardens have a sort of resistance naturally, though we do not know why – we just know that is the only reason we live. But we don't live forever, or even like a normal person. It depends on some things, but we have two or three decades from the Joining before the Taint starts to take an effect. Assuming, of course, we don't die before then. It's called the Calling and when we experience it, we go to the Deep Roads and fight until..well, the end."

Haelia was dumbstruck. It was one thing to think you are going to die some day in the future (and probably in the next few months, attempting to save a country that didn't seem to want saving much) but to know that you had a very specific amount of time in which to do everything was something entirely else.

She couldn't say she was mad. She was, truth be told, sad. "Oh," she said with resignation. There wasn't anything she could think of to say to that. She was, simply put, overwhelmed. "Anything...anything else?"

"A ravenous hunger," Alistair spoke immediately, trying to lighten the mood, "When I first became a Warden, I ate everything in sight."

"Oh?" Haelia offered a wan smile. "Is that normal?"

"It is not for me to comment on the eating habits of a young woman," he chuckled slightly, eyebrows raised.

"What can I say, I'm a growing girl," Haelia laughed, but only slightly, before she laid her head down again. "Thank you, Alistair."

He didn't say anything but did smile a little in the darkness, his generally depressed demeanor lightened if only a little as he returned to his bedroll. Haelia did not sleep again that night, distracted by the idea of having no say in when she was going to die.

Maker take that, she snorted to herself. She had lived when she should have died three times in less than two months. She would not succumb to something so trivial as the Taint.

The following day, late in the afternoon, they came upon the entrance to Lothering, a part of the Imperial Highway that was being blocked by a small group of what could only be bandits.

"You've got to pay the toll," a thick man, bald of head and short of sword, spoke from beside a slightly better-looking brunette man who looked to be more of a leader.

"And what, pray tell, is the toll, good ser?" Haelia asked with a lifted eyebrow, her hands on her hips.

The bald man looked to the leader, who nodded. "Thirty silver."

"Oh my, thirty silver? That is quite a lot. What are you using all that money for?"

"Repairs to the Imperial Highway," the leader responded, taking half a step forward. His voice was smooth and practiced.

Haelia crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, "Oh? Is that so? You lot don't seem the like the type of people that are doing much good here."

"The crew is new," the leader's eyes narrowed a little and his hand twitched at his side.

"Well, I must apologize. We don't have that much silver to spare. A person's got to eat, you know."

"I am afraid we won't be able to let you pass then." Haelia saw the man's jaw muscles clench and unclench. His hand was moving, slowly, towards the sword at his side.

She was too quick for him, however. She had her dagger in her hand and the blade at his throat. She was thankful then for the years of pickpocketing that her parents had known nothing (or little) about. "You will let us pass, ser, or we will walk over your corpses. Moreover, we will take from you what you have taken from others. Is this understood?"

His hand moved at her side, attempting to draw his sword. She beat him to it, but was forced to move back enough to relinquish her threatening position at his throat. Alistair was at her side, sword and shield at the ready. Morrigan was casting some sort of spell that Haelia could not even comprehend, although it smelled wretched.

"Again, ser, I ask you – is this understood?"

With his sword in one hand and her dagger in the other, Haelia did not betray the fear in her heart. She had killed men at her home only when they tried to kill she or her mother. She had killed many darkspawn in the interim, but they were no longer men. Certainly the group that stood before her deserved such a fate, but who was she to decide that? Or, moreover, bestow it?

There were twice as many men standing before her than stood with her, even with Mather foaming at the mouth at her side. He snapped his jaw in warning at the bandit leader who, finally, lifted his hands in surrender.

"All right, all right. We'll give you the stuff, just let us go."

"Have your men bring it up," Haelia nodded to the chest she could see. "All of it."

And they did, especially after some prodding. Haelia knew they had more than the one chest and did not trust them to turn her back. Haelia dropped the man's sword and quickly found her own dagger, keeping her foot on the hilt of the sword. "Your men will start in the direction we came from. Once they are far enough off, I will kick your sword to you and you will follow them. Unless, of course, you have all decided to meet the Maker today."

They had not. They gave in and did as Haelia suggested and turned tail, trying to find somewhere else to survive the oncoming horde.

The Wardens, the witch, and the war dog made off with the trinkets and money that the bandits had stolen, and a necklace with an ornate amulet from a dead templar.

For that first day, Lothering was mostly uneventful. After dealing with a particularly rude merchant (which Morrigan disapproved of and, moreover, the way Haelia dealt with it was not something that the witch appreciated), the party took up in Dane's Refuge, the only inn in Lothering. There was one room, in the back end with a leaky corner and no bed. It had been, they decided, a broom closet before Dane decided he could charge for the space. Exorbitantly.

The next day, after everyone woke up from a full night's (mostly, barring nightmares) sleep, Alistair turned to the fully dressed Warden that he adventured with.

"Haelia...did you..have any plans? I thought we might want to talk about...what we plan on doing?"

The young woman was pulling her dark hair back and turned to look at the blond man, raising an eyebrow. "Me? I mean...I suppose I had thought we should go see Arl Eammon before we do much of anything else. That was what you had suggested, wasn't it?"

Alistair nodded and Morrigan spoke before he had a chance to comment.

"Why do you, the senior Warden, leave the decision-making to the person that has only been a part of your Order for a mere few days?"

Alistair's face blanked before his lips turned into a frowned, his forehead wrinkle in frustration. It was a question Haelia had asked herself a few times over the last several days, wondering why it seemed that he deferred to her in almost everything. She knew nothing of darkspawn and little of war outside of history books. Politics her father had taught her about, but not so much as to go against a country that had decided the Grey Wardens were to be outlawed.

"I...I don't know."

"We are more democratic than that," Haelia chimed in, obviously aware of how uncomfortable Morrigan had made Alistair. "All three of us make suggestions, do we not?"

"You have yet to ask me what I think about your plan."

"Well, then, Morrigan – what do you think we should do?"

"Go after Loghain. It is best to confront one's enemies head-on."

"The three of us-"

Mather barked in frustration at Alistair before he waved off the dog, "...four of us couldn't defeat all of his army and make it to him in one piece."

"She asked me what I thought."

"After your prompting."

"She suggested that we are all equal partners in this."

"If she's going to travel with us, she has the right to offer input," Haelia shrugged a little, moving to the door so that they could vacate the room and begin their day. "But I do agree with Alistair; we are far too unprepared. And, also, we know so little of what is actually going on it would be a fool's errand to go after Loghain. He must, I imagine, have a reason – however wrong it is. Everyone does." Even Howe. "Don't give me that look Alistair. I am by no means suggesting that he should not pay for the crimes he has committed – cowardice is not something one takes lightly in a time of war, that much I do know."

"He killed Duncan."

"Actually-"

"Morrigan," Haelia shot the other woman a look, shaking her head a little. Alistair's face was red, furious with the words he was hearing. Haelia looked to him again and frowned a little. "Alistair, please. I am in no way saying that Loghain was right in his choice. You have to know that. But you also need to know that attacking him because of our personal feelings isn't going to save Ferelden."

The blond man didn't say another word before he took up his sword and shield and left the room. Haelia groaned and covered her face with her hand.

"You should be glad," Morrigan spoke as she picked up her staff, "this may teach him something about humanity that he obviously hasn't learned before."

"Duncan just died," Haelia frowned at Morrigan as Mather moved to the door, Haelia standing in the doorway as she looked after her fellow Grey Warden. "I know...know what he is feeling," she sighed, one hand on the doorframe. Alistair was among the throng in the main hall of the inn, something she could see from her vantage point on the second floor, tucked a little back into the corner. Mather growled. "More poignantly than either of you know. I just wish he could-"

Swords were being drawn. Alistair was in the middle of it, his sword still sheathed at his waist. A redhead, a Chantry sister if her robes told the truth, was holding her hands up, standing in front of him.

"...Maker's blood," Haelia grunted and Mather took off, the witch and the rogue not too far behind.