A/N: hey guys, thanks for all the alerting! Good to know this is readable at least lol. Special thanks to Sasse1892 for the reviews :) lovin' the feedback.

Chapter Three

The next morning was a series of rituals he was becoming quickly familiar with. The Commander was spitting out the herbs she chewed on after breakfast as Nathaniel cleared away the remains of their meal, throwing the last of the bland soup into the grass by her spit.

They were a charming bunch.

Oghren returned from emptying his bladder upon some poor helpless tree and Anders stretched. It was going to be another morning of walking and he stood slowly, feeling his back complain right away from the angle he slept on after his shift.

Relieving Nathaniel hadn't been the same experience. Gone was the awkward "So, I'm up…" conversation and in its place was that same comforting silence after their stories. It was almost as though he'd known the man longer than a few weeks. Anders had heard fighting with men changed their relationships considerably, but this probably was different.

Anders had no doubt the rogue would go straight back to criticising his skills as a fighter were he to broach that topic.

"We should be back at the Keep by nightfall." The Commander said, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

Nathaniel nodded in reply as he finished strapping his pack together. Oghren lifted his axe with one hand, pulling out yet another flask with his spare. Anders sighed and lifted his own pack as Tabris pulled on her plated gloves, reaching for her sword.

It was getting tiresome, all these excursions to the city. Anders found it harder and harder to remember a time when he hadn't even been sure they would ever go there in the first place. Vigil's Keep just wasn't very close to anything.

He sighed again, feeling like it was just another part to their morning routine as they finally made their way back out onto the road. With each step they put more distance between themselves and that grizzly farm they'd come across and Anders was sorry to say he was glad of it. Some things about becoming a Warden were a little harder to stomach, and he was getting a few too many tastes of that for only being a month in.

The Commander had said it would get easier. Well, she said it might not too, but Anders preferred the chance that being a Warden might possibly be a good thing. After all, Tabris had stopped a Blight. What were a few unexpected darkspawn? So what if they could talk, Anders thought, trying desperately to cheer himself. They had the Hero of Ferelden on their side. Surely that had to count?

The hero in question stopped to tuck the strap of her knee plate in before it tripped her up.

Anders rolled his eyes and gestured wordlessly at the sky. This was what he had to work with!

Yeah, it was going to be another long walk back.

"Who's Avernus?"

They were following the North Road back past Amaranthine to the Keep and the Commander had by chance fallen in step with him. The way she looked the night before, telling them about that captain, the way her eyes had watched the flowers by her knees before that story… it had all played over and over in his mind. There wasn't much else to think of other than the sight of that farm they'd gone to help. He had to know who this Avernus person was and why she didn't seem like herself when she spoke of him.

"Oh, him." Anders watched her watch Nathaniel's back up ahead. "He's a mage I think. Well, he does experiments and I've only known mages to really care about that."

That was a gross generalisation, he thought. Well, okay, so he didn't really know anyone else who did experiments except for mages, but there was something in that sentence that he didn't like.

"What kind of experiments?"

"Oh, you know…" Tabris exhaled. He watched as her gait became obviously casual. The Commander swung her arms and looked around at the fields surrounding them. "He was trying to see what he could do with blood. That sort of thing."

Anders' eyebrows climbed new heights. "He was a blood mage!"

"Well… not exactly. He was a Warden." The Commander pulled to a stop, tugging with a hand on his sleeve for him to follow. "Look, I mean, don't bring it up with Nathaniel or anything but Avernus did some pretty bad things and I… made a deal with him."

He waited as she seemed to debate with herself whether to actually tell him or not. Her other hand rolled across the tip of her swords pummel as it swung, the sheath tied to her waist.

"He got to keep his life, if I got the results of his experiment." Her face had gone a bright red under his gaze as she dropped her hand from his sleeve. So he got to live if she reaped the benefits? He honestly didn't think her capable of something like that. Then again, she was one for giving everyone a chance – he'd seen that plenty within the past four weeks. Someone would show up having done something terrible, she'd ask them to join or tell them not to do it again. Anything except sticking a knife into them.

Maybe it was like that.

"So what happened?"

"Did you notice when we fought that talking darkspawn that I didn't quite fight like Oghren?"

He'd been more worried about the talking darkspawn and its ugly mug probably being the last thing he'd ever see on this earth. "Must have missed that," he admitted as they began to walk again, slowly catching up to the rogue who had noticed their absence.

"It's a blood fury. There's this strength inside of me that I never had before I drank that goblet, like hot steel coursing through my limbs. Like I could tear off a hurlock's head with my fingertips."

She probably could, he thought. He'd never seen someone so small fight so fiercely that wasn't a dwarf. Tabris looked reckless and from the amount of injuries she'd sustained he'd say that was a fair estimate.

"Please don't tell Nathaniel though. He already doesn't like me." Anders watched as she kicked her feet along the dusty road and felt something inside of him sink at the thought that she wanted to impress Nathaniel. Who would ever want that lump of fun to like them?

"Promise." He said seriously, smiling when she looked up at him. There was an instant where he wanted to reach across and brush the hair out of her face; it was such a strong urge that it shocked him. He barely knew this woman… but there it was. He wanted her to keep looking at him like that, smiling that half smile she was trying to bite down.

"You know, I think he might be warming up to all of us." The Commander started to walk faster again though he caught her smile widen considerably at his words. He sped up too, feeling his pack shift as he watched her almost skip up towards the other two. He was grateful the Maker gave him long legs.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Anders said, feeling his heart give a little jump when she held on his sleeve again for a second.

"Exactly."

They were having some sort of ball or meeting or something, but frankly, all Anders was really aware of was how good the wine was here. Varel had let them stay after the Commander asked and really it wasn't so bad with such fine liquor. Certainly, Oghren was struggling to behave himself but really Anders thought that had more to do with the dwarven woman on his arm more than anything.

Anders turned back to the small group of nobles he'd joined and saw how each of them followed the Commander with their eyes during the course of a conversation. She was politely mixing with each group, saying a few words, listening undoubtedly to more complaints before moving onto the next. Each group was just waiting, continuing some pointless conversation – from what he could figure – about the soaring price of labour in the arling.

He tried not to sigh aloud when yet another young man pulled their small Commander aside to tell her precisely what he thought. Really, Anders had no idea what each of them were saying, but from the expression on her face it wasn't 'hey, you look pretty good tonight'. The Commander hadn't yet learnt how to mask her feelings for noblemen, something she'd always had trouble with from what he understood by Oghren's explanation.

It wasn't like he was going to start blaming her for that either. This lot were a really dull bunch, it wouldn't help to hear every single problem they had since their last Arl. The Arl she'd killed.

Yeah, the wine was good.

"That your first or second, mage?"

Anders almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Nathaniel's voice. "Maker! Where did you come from?"

Nathaniel turned slowly, pointing to the long table lined with food.

"Good chicken, huh?"

Somehow, it was like the rogue never stopped glaring.

"I didn't realise how bad things were in the arling." Nathaniel sighed silently.

Anders sipped at his wine to avoid having to answer Nathaniel. From what he'd seen, the rogue's father hadn't done much by way of being an Arl, but it really wasn't his place to point that out.

"The Commander has a lot on her plate."

Nathaniel nodded slowly and Anders watched as the rogue's eyes followed their leader carefully as she disengaged herself from yet another noble unquestionably with another complaint.

"I overheard they are concerned by the reassignment of soldiers."

"Hm?" So, he hadn't really been listening all that hard to the group of nobles he'd been mingling with. At least, he'd heard about one of their daughters running off with some servant from Highever. He'd left when the real scandal was that it was with an elf.

"The Commander has inherited all my father's problems it seems. There are not enough soldiers to protect the arling against any true attack from the darkspawn. Each of them will vie for the protection of their own interests – farms, trade routes, the city. The Commander will have to make her choice soon."

"Or what, risk annoying this lot of stuffed shirts even more?"

"It's more serious than that, Anders."

Nathaniel frowned, folding his hands behind his back. He looked like maybe he could have fit in with his silk tunic and serious eyes, but Anders knew the soldier that had been made of him would forever set him apart. Now with his father's betrayal it seemed unlikely Nathaniel would ever gain favour enough with any of these nobles to rejoin their ranks.

"Great party." Oghren joined them and Anders smiled at his tired-looking partner.

"I don't think we've met." He said, offering her his hand. He must have spilt some wine or something for Nathaniel suddenly snatched his cup instantly out of his other hand.

"No, we haven't. I'm glad to see you've managed to find friends as pleasant as you, Oghren." The woman said sourly, disengaging herself from Oghren's side to cross the room.

"Ah, I see my unavoidable charm is working." Anders was pretty sure that third cup of wine was starting to kick in when Nathaniel glared at him yet again.

"Great work, skirts, that's my wife you know." Oghren folded his arms, watching the woman pointedly ignore him as she surveyed the feast.

"Looks like your doing a great job yourself."

Oghren grunted in response before heading after his wife.

"Was it something I said?" Anders turned to Nathaniel, who still had his cup. The rogue's frown deepened and for a moment Anders thought that was a pretty neat trick until he tried to mimic the expression. How did that not hurt his jaw?

"So I was thinking," Anders ignored the immediate scoff Nathaniel was unable to hide. "It must be hard for you not to be strutting your stuff with the rest of these nobles." He gestured across the room.

Nathaniel placed his goblet on the bench to their right before he answered him. "I've been a soldier longer than I've been a noble, mage."

"So you're not sore or anything, that this could have all been yours?"

"There are more problems here… it's not the point. My father may have been the arl, but that calling was never for me."

"I wonder how she does it," Anders said, moving to lean against the wooden column opposite the bench. He watched as the Commander spoke with Varel. No doubt the man was as good a counsel as he was loyal to the Wardens. He hadn't heard a single person speak a word against the man since he'd been brought to Vigil's Keep. And Maker, there was no pleasing a templar on a good day.

"I believe the Commander spent a great deal of time at court before her posting to the Keep."

"Oh?" Anders looked back at Nathaniel who was eyeing his boots. "Who told you that? She doesn't seem like the court-type."

"She was there for half a year, Anders."

He didn't know what to say to that. The Commander wasn't anything like a noble. She looked tired and frustrated, not cool and collected. She was wearing her armour for Maker's sake! There was nothing in her manner that he'd observed that hinted experience with such people.

At length, Anders asked. "Are you sure?"

Nathaniel answered him by returning his cup.

"But-" Anders started, fully prepared to expound on his theory before Nathaniel cut him off, the back of his hand pressed to his robe.

"Shh, she's coming."

"Good evening, gentlemen," she smiled, swooping her arm under her chest in a funny sort of bow. Anders grinned at the tone of her voice, nudging Nathaniel's elbow. "Are we enjoying ourselves?"

"Oh but of course, Commander!" Anders said, holding his goblet up as he too pretended to courtesy. He could practically feel Nathaniel rolling his eyes beside him.

The Commander laughed, steadying him with a cold hand as he tried to straighten.

"I see someone likes the wine."

"A little too much," Nathaniel added and Anders pouted back.

"Yeah well, we can't all have great taste," Anders told the rogue, swallowing another mouthful of the sweet liquor. It tasted a lot like the good stock they had back in the tower.

"Well I'm glad at least one of us is having a good time," Tabris looked behind her to where Oghren was pleading with his sour-faced wife. "I don't know how that even happened."

"I'm sure it's not an irregular occurrence," Nathaniel said as politely as he could. No noble-breeding my foot, Anders thought, keeping his nose buried in his cup to avoid commenting.

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure it isn't, but I meant their marrying in the first place. I have no idea how he finally convinced her to do it."

"Maybe he 'sowed for harvest' if you know what I mean." Nathaniel stared at him and Anders knew he should have just kept his mouth shut. He'd definitely had too much.

The Commander said nothing but watched the couple for another moment. "At any rate," she said, turning back to the other two. "If I ever see another noble it'll be too soon."

"Is this wrapping up, then?" Anders asked, gesturing in circles to indicate the party.

"Yeah. Early morning tomorrow, darkspawn in the afternoon, you know the drill." Tabris smiled dully and waved once at them before returning to the Seneschal.

"I take it did not go well." Anders offered his cup back to Nathaniel as the rogue spoke.

"Doesn't take a genius to see this is a room full of unhappy people, Nathaniel." The rogue watched him for a moment and Anders wondered if he finally said something respectable. He felt more than a little light-headed and realised he probably should have had something more than a cob of corn before drinking so much so quickly. "I think I'm going to go lie down now."

Any respect he might have just gained died in Nathaniel's eyes but at that moment, the mage didn't care. "Early morning, you know." He headed off towards their room, sparing a moment in the doorway to look for the Commander. She was silent as Seneschal Varel farewelled her guests, standing upright with an expression he couldn't quite place. It was something akin to sadness as she stared out past them.

He knew that look. Anders recalled her face in the dark at the Crown and Lion tavern in Amaranthine. There was so much he wanted to ask her. She called him her friend, and yet, he knew they weren't close enough, not nearly enough for him to even broach the subject. Everything personal stayed just that – personal - in their little band of Wardens.

Just as he started to turn and head for bed he caught sight of Nathaniel, crossing the room. He glanced back at the Commander and saw her swallow, a small smile trying to creep across her face. Nathaniel stopped before her and they spoke softly, Varel leaving them, heading Anders' way.

Now what was that? Anders thought, finally leaving the throne room. Maybe Nathaniel was at last trying to understand the Commander, where she came from, why she did what she did. She couldn't bring back his father, he had to know that.

Anders sighed, climbing the stairs to Nathaniel's room, thinking of the rogue's ever-present grimness. Trying to presume the man capable of anything other than that was getting to be a daily challenge.

Maybe the Commander could finally break through to him.

Maybe she'd give him his bow.

"Get behind!" She barked at him.

Nathaniel dropped his stance and hurried behind her, the look on his face harsh enough to freeze dragon's breath. He knelt again, fixing three arrows at once to his bow – the same old one from the smuggler's hideout. It hadn't gone well from what Anders could tell.

He shot another spark of lightning at the genlock battling the Commander. She heaved her sword up, the point sliding behind the monster's chin, up through his mouth to exit at his head. She roared, kicking his body back to unsheathe her sword from his head, running over to the four on Oghren.

It was getting worse. The Commander had focused the arling's soldiers to patrolling the roads, but desperate farmers had begun to pack their things and settle in makeshift stalls and camps on the edges of their fields beside the road. They'd run across one, then two and a week later there were five. Darkspawn had raised their farms, slaughtered their cattle and horses and hunted them down until they found the soldiers. Most of them didn't make it.

Anders raised his hands, his staff swinging violently overhead as he called up a tempest, shattering and crackling across the plates and armour of his companions, scorching the darkspawn as they stood. Genlocks fell in piles and the emissary that stood behind an overturned cart finally came forward.

The Commander honed in on the creature immediately, waiting for no one as she charged. The force of her shield knocked the spell-caster back and Anders watched as she swung her sword backwards, pummelling the Hurlock to the ground. It spat furiously at her and Nathaniel pinned it down, four precise arrows imbedding into its shoulders.

Tabris sliced her sword across its throat and blood splattered up across her face. She recoiled, shaking it out of her eyes as the last Hurlock jumped over the body of its dead comrade, axe aloft. She parried it back lazily, the sound of metal scraping ringing across the field.

Oghren came up behind her and with one two-handed swing, the Hurlock crumpled to the ground. The dwarf's axe glistened with darkspawn blood and the Commander moved away to check the bodies.

Nathaniel refitted his quiver against his back and picked at the tip of his bow. Anders wiped his brow, feeling the slight shake of after-adrenaline settle into his limbs. The rogue stood beside him, watching Tabris as she picked through the bodies of the darkspawn, frowning at the long-dead farmers by the cart.

"She's never going to change," Naathaniel spoke lowly to him.

Anders didn't know what he was talking about. "Uh…"

"She'll always be a thief." Nathaniel chucked his chin towards her as if her current actions were evidence.

"Look, we need the stuff. They're darkspawn. They're not gonna miss it."

A moment later she folded down the emissary's scrappy cloak and wandered over to the farmers. Did the rogue mean that? It was the same story. They weren't going to use it and the Wardens were in need of as much help as they could find. The pockets of the dead were the easiest form of aid they could find.

"She's a thief." Nathaniel repeated with greater conviction. The elf almost looked up at them.

Anders pursed his lips. He'd had enough. "Just lay off her."

He walked over to help her, trying not to look into the white-blue face of the old man as he pulled out his pockets. Nathaniel never joined them and Anders knew they'd taken two steps back again.

Sigrun was a great addition to their team. Not only could she hold her own, she seemed to carry them half the time.

They were leaving Kal'Hirol and Anders had begun to notice that the Commander couldn't seem to take her eyes off the hangman's cliff. They were climbing back up the rickety stairs and suspended bridges and every five minutes she'd look up and fix it with a look he didn't understand.

Anders really hated not knowing something.

The dwarf walked behind them all and although he'd tried several times to talk to her, and get her to admit he was pretty good looking for a surfacer she'd just glare. He knew she thought he was immature and probably a waste of space. The amount of women who'd told him that…

Well he wasn't one for bruised egos and pity parties.

Anders caught up with the Commander. "What's up?" He joked, pointing to the cliff. The Commander rolled her eyes but he caught her smile and he grinned back, trying not to look too eager.

"Nothing." She said, looking over at Nathaniel again and Anders felt his smile fall. Why was she so damn obsessed with making that goof happy? He was going to be a miserable bastard either way, Anders figured, so why not let him to it? She wasn't going to do anything to change that, for better or worse.

"He's not going to hear you," he said, lowering his voice for her ears only. The Commander's eyes flicked from his to the railing she gripped as they crossed yet another precarious bridge.

"How did you – you know what, never mind." She kept her eyes on her feet as they stepped from plank to plank and Anders tried to calculate when their next stop would be. He knew pounce was getting restless, could feel his feet sticking into his shoulders through the bag.

"Might make you feel better if you talk about it," Anders didn't even believe that, but he'd had enough women tell him that when he looked down at her he reckoned it would probably work on their own kind.

But the Commander shook her head and he sighed to himself. They came to the next set of stairs and saw Oghren leaning on the railing heavily, looking flushed as he stared down into the canyon they were slowly making their way out of.

"Are you okay?" The Commander asked, tapping the dwarf on the shoulder. Oghren moaned in response and Anders guessed he'd just been sick, judging by the flecks of spittle across the dwarf's lips. "Maybe we should take a break," she said slowly, looking over Oghren's back to him.

The dwarf turned and glared at her, shaking her hand off his shoulder. "Are you mad, powder brain? We're almost out." She stood, with her hand in the air as the dwarf marched off, grumbling as he swiped at his mouth, carrying his weight up each step like a pendulum.

"Is he going to make it, do you think?" Anders joked and the Commander scoffed.

"If he didn't drink so much it wouldn't be a problem."

"I heard that, Commander!" The dwarf called back down to them, already winding his way up, closer to Nathaniel who'd really gotten ahead now.

The Commander rolled her eyes fondly and he smiled as they made their way up together.

They crossed the last bridge over the canyon at sundown. The yellow colour of the soil and stone turned a deep burnt orange in the setting sunlight as Nathaniel strode ahead, looking for a spot for them to set up camp. Anders sighed and felt Sigrun's eyes beating into his back disapprovingly as Oghren ambled his way behind Nathaniel, mumbling about a little privacy.

The Commander stared at the tree on the cliff that stood only a few feet above them now.

Anders folded his arms and wondered if it would be an appropriate time to make a joke about worst highwayman hangout spot ever.

She sighed too and dragged her feet along behind the others, watching the ground more than their companions. Anders still had no idea what it was with her and that cliff and it was starting to really get to him.

If the Commander had spent more time watching Nathaniel he'd be happier. Okay so maybe not ectatic or anything, but it would be better knowing what was running through that elf's mind than taking wild guesses at what kept her attention on the cliff.

As far as he could remember the men they'd found there were just scum who didn't hesitate to try to kill them the moment they were spotted. He tried to remember if the Commander looked any different once they were down and they picked the corpses. It was a job she did well, and he'd never seen her flinch or cringe, or even think about asking them to stop.

The first time had been a real stomach-turner, but he'd gotten used to it. It came with part of being in the Commander's group. She took whatever they could get, because it was always something they needed. Even having the king of Ferelden on your side didn't provide you with all the provisions you needed to run an arling, a fortress and a rag-tag collection of starving Wardens. She had a lot on her plate and he understood.

It got easier every time. He wondered if that should worry him.

He couldn't remember the Commander hesitating over their bodies. He couldn't remember if she paused before calling Nathaniel over to open up their collection. She didn't blink when she patted down the hung man's pockets.

It was just another mystery in the unending puzzle that the Commander was to him.

Nathaniel finally found a spot that satisfied him, a rise just off the side of the path, higher than the rest and flat enough for all of them to lie down. The rogue immediately went about building a fire and Anders helped the others to find anything that would burn quickly. This place was quickly becoming cold now that the sun had disappeared past the horizon.

He continued to watch the Commander in the dull light left by the sun. Her hair kept falling in her face and he could tell by the set of her fists as she piled pieces of broken branches in her arms that she probably wanted to be left alone.

Since when was he any good at following orders?

They'd somehow walked the furthest for the wood and once he realised nobody else was paying them any attention he dumped his pile of dead thorn-bush and twigs beside her. The Commander looked up at him, her eyes questioning as she added yet another branch to her pile.

"What is it, Anders?"

"I was just about to ask you."

She continued looking at him like she was waiting for something and he sighed, lowering a hand onto her shoulder.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to drag it out of you?" His voice was soft and her eyes quickly switched from his to the ground beneath their feet.

"Oh, that."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The Commander looked back up at him and he felt that strange something tug at him again. He wanted to protect this woman, and whatever it was that was bothering her wasn't worth the look on her face. She turned away from him and he dropped his hand from her shoulder.

"You don't have to. Look," he tugged his earring. "You really helped me out before, you've helped all of us before, so I just thought I'd… well, don't worry." He wasn't sore about it. Definitely not.

"Wait." Her hand whipped out to catch his wrist as he started to turn. "Anders." She managed to look up at him and he knew he couldn't leave now. She threw her sticks down beside his and fell on her behind in the dirt. Anders followed suit and he watched as she seemed to chew her words in her mouth, her eyes on the canyon before them in the distance.

"When I see that tree, all I can think about-" The words caught in her throat and he wondered whether he should touch her or just let her struggle on. "I think about my mother."

She twisted to face him. "You probably don't want to hear another story."

"I don't like to tell them, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear them."

She gave him a small smile. "Okay."

/

Her father hadn't let her go but there she was. She looked up at the tree, its leaves torn from its branches, now bearing the bloodiest of fruits. She couldn't look away.

She knew why her father didn't want her to see this. She was never going to forget this sight ever, in all her days, for the rest of her life.

Maker she was going to be sick in the street.

It was just outside the Market, the road that brought travellers into Denerim. She didn't understand, but one of the older boys had whispered to Soris that it was to warn everyone.

There was a sign, of course.

The small elf's clenched fist moved its shaky way to her chest and she tried to stop crying those silent tears.

Her mother was hanging from the tree.

Around Adaia's neck was a poorly painted sign – "Elves bearing arms will die on them." The rope snaked down from the branches of the tree, twisted around her arms, down to her neck, meeting the wooden sign.

She could feel that rope around her own neck.

"Oi, you! Get back to work!" A guard's voice came from behind her and she tore her eyes away from the gruesome sight before he shoved her along the road. "Let that be a warning to you and your kind, knife-ears. You even think about carrying a knife in them pockets of yours and you'll get as she did."

"I'm going! I'm going." She pulled her shoulder from his giant hands and gave one last look to her mother's dead body. Mama's hands would never hold hers again. Mama would never show her how to make the metal of a sword shine in the midnight moon again.

She was twelve and her mistress would be waiting for her to fix her hair. The little elf squared her shoulders under the soldier's eyes and marched down the road through the gate to Denerim.

/

"Oh." Anders looked at his own hands, a trick the Commander did when she didn't know what to say. He was picking up a few habits from this lot. "I'm sorry Commander," he offered, placing a hesitant hand on her hunched shoulder.

"You don't have to be sorry, Anders." She smiled a little, leaning into his touch. That had to be a good sign right? "It's not your fault Mama got caught."

Anders looked over to where the firelight from the camp was. It looked like Nathaniel had managed without their wood, but that was okay. It would probably make it less obvious that he'd cornered the Commander into such a personal conversation away from the rest of them. He didn't like the way Oghren kept watching him around her anyway.

"Maybe we should get back," he said slowly, hoping she would disagree and they could spend a little longer together.

Tabris looked up at him, her hands tucked under her chin and he watched as she tried to read his face. "Sure, if you want to."

Anders smiled and shrugged a bit, thinking he'd try some honesty. "Not really."

He was rewarded with one of those rare smiles that wrinkled the corner of her eyes.

"Thanks," she said, like it was a favour to her not to be dragged back to deal with all the others. He supposed she'd had just about as much of Nathaniel's cold shoulder as the rest of them. "I guess the reason I keep thinking about all this past stuff is 'cause it's the first chance I've had. Amaranthine is close, but not too close if you know what I mean."

He didn't but Anders nodded. He was wondering why she hadn't shrugged his hand off her back yet and whether he should remove it or let it slip a little lower. Now was probably not the time to be making the moves on her, he thought, wincing at his thoughts in the twilight.

"When I was in Denerim there – well, I guess lets just say there wasn't much time to think past the present."

"Were you in court?" He had no idea about her time in the city but Nathaniel seemed pretty sure back at the Keep.

"Sometimes." There was a look in her eye that said so much more and Anders would have pressed further if Nathaniel hadn't wandered over.

"Commander," the rogue began, his hands clenched slightly at his side.

"Yeah?" Anders smirked at the less-than-thrilled address. She kicked her feet up and folded her hands in her lap. Anders kept his hand where it was.

Nathaniel looked down at the pair of them. His jaw was tight and Anders knew he was just itching to ask what was going on. "I'll take the first watch." Anders smirked to himself as the rogue gave them one last odd look before heading back to camp.

"We should probably follow him." The Commander pulled herself up and Anders was left with his hand hanging in the air. "You know, in case he starts gossiping with the other girls."

Anders laughed and waved off the hand she offered to help him up. "Maybe they'll swap secrets on braiding."

"Like you can talk!" Tabris cried, tugging his ponytail. He nudged her in the side and she shoved him gently back as they chuckled lightly, picking up the firewood. He'd learnt she liked to diffuse situations like this with humour. It was a habit, a familiar one at that. He was glad of it.

"Ah, but they'll never get their hair to shine the way mine does," he grinned, tossing his head as they made their way back to the camp.