This one is late, but it gave me a hard time! I wanted to keep it true to the game as much as I could, but with Alistair's conversation, it just didn't work. So finally I gave in and did what felt right. And I know it feels like a lot crammed into one chapter, but it speaks to how disjointed it all is for Drea...I think anyhow:) Hope you like it!

~Stretching the Sanity~

The sun had not yet risen when Drea left her room. Already fully dressed in her armour, she started walking through the Vigil towards the main hall, curious about her new surroundings. As always, Arkon was close at her side. She was impressed with how much the servants and guards had cleaned up from the devastation of the attack. There were no bodies, human nor darkspawn, and most of the bloodstains had been scrubbed from the stone floor and walls. Although there was still a great deal of work to be done, it was an incredible start.

Despite her best effort, the large wooden door to the main hall creaked loudly when she opened it and thudded solidly behind her. She cringed slightly, not wanting anything to disturb the resting servants and guards who worked so tirelessly. A chuckle from the far end quickly drew her attention and she saw Seneschal Varel smiling at her efforts, "Don't worry Commander, the noises carry more in here than they do down the hallway."

"Good," she commented coolly, as she confidently strode up the centre of the hall towards the man with the graying hair. "I apologize if I disturbed you," she added.

"Not at all," he assured her. "The older I get, the less sleep I seem to need, so I tend to start on things early. Besides Commander, the Vigil belongs to you now. You are free to do as you please." Again, he smiled and Drea couldn't help but notice his kind eyes that crinkled in the corners. His demeanor was calm but strong, speaking to his experience and presumable wisdom. Even in such a short amount of time, she found herself liking him. But questions nagged at her…

Finally reaching him, she clasped his arm in greeting and offered him a tight-lipped smile. For a moment, she continued to stare at the man, not entirely sure how to continue. Small doubts had nipped at her when she heard of his history and she knew she had to address them, but wasn't sure if this was too soon. Steepling her fingers, she finally decided to push on, "Seneschal Varel…this might strike you as sudden, but I must address this and have never been known for beating around the bush. From what I understand, you served Rendon Howe and..."

"Ah," Varel quickly replied as he nodded knowingly. "If I may say, this does not seem sudden at all. Given your history, I rather expected to have this conversation and I appreciate your directness. It is important for you to know those who will be serving at your back." Pausing briefly, he reflected a moment before continuing, "Yes, I once served Rendon Howe. However, he had me disgracefully relieved of my duties. I believe I was fortunate to get out with my life."

"For what reason?" Drea asked, her voice betraying her surprise.

Without flinching, Varel answered, "For questioning his orders. I found I could not agree with the direction he was taking and we began to argue with frequency. This was well before the appalling attack on Highever…my sincerest condolences Commander," he let the words linger as she nodded in acknowledgement. "He removed me from the Vigil and I found myself in Amaranthine for a few years. After his demise, those left here at the Vigil asked me to return to keep order in the arling until the new Commander arrived. It is, of course, up to you now if I remain."

Drea evenly held his gaze for several moments. It would not be difficult to verify that story, but she sensed he spoke the truth. His disappointment with Howe was enough for her to want him to remain, and the arling seemed to do well under his direction. "I would actually appreciate if you continued as the seneschal," she replied as she patted her hand on his shoulder. He bowed in response.

The door groaned loudly behind them as a woman pushed her way into the room, "My apologies if I am interrupting."

"Not at all, please come in," Seneschal Varel motioned for the woman to approach. Crossing the room, the woman stood before the pair and Varel continued, "Commander, this is Ambassador Cera, sent as a representative from the Circle of Magi at the request of the Wardens from Orlais."

"Yes," Drea replied as she took the ambassador's hand, "I imagine they would want someone on hand to help them prepare for the Joining rituals."

"That, and to work with runes," Cera agreed. "It seems you are, once again, the only Grey Warden in Ferelden. I imagine you would want to proceed with the Joining as soon as possible and wanted to inform you that I reviewed the parchments that the Wardens from Orlais provided. I expect I can have the mixture prepared as early as nightfall if you should wish." Drea was grateful both to Cera and the missing Wardens.

It was shortly after introductions that the Vigil became bustling - apparently everyone was too anxious from the attack to sleep much into the morning. As she explored the Vigil, her companions eventually caught up with her. While they spoke with Voldrik, a dwarf dedicated to rebuilding the Keep walls, one of the guards ran up to her, breathlessly explaining he spotted travelers on the road. Anticipating more trouble, Drea and the others hurried to the gate.

The realization that they were flying royal banners put her at ease and made her nervous. "Time to roll out the welcome mat," she muttered to herself, "Or at least what's left of it." Sure enough, Alistair was leading the small army as they marched towards the Vigil with purpose. "Greetings your Majesty," Drea called when they neared.

Drawing the soldiers to a halt, the shock was evident on his face. Not even trying to mask it, Alistair flatly stated, "Well…I didn't expect to see you here."

Giving a polite bow, Drea replied, "I know. I would have sent you word of my plans but I got an urgent message from the seneschal asking me to come immediately. It seems there is a surge in darkspawn numbers in the arling. I only just arrived yesterday…"

"Oh. Well, I'm glad to see you're alright," Alistair replied courteously, not sure what else to say. He was expecting to welcome the Orlesian Wardens and had not considered the idea that he may find her here.

Before Drea had a chance to reply, Oghren broke in, "And what am I, chopped nug liver?"

"Well, that would explain the smell," Alistair quipped, a faint smile on his lips.

The dwarf sputtered, but before he could retaliate, a woman in Templar armour marched up from among the King's ranks, "Be careful your Highness, he is a dangerous criminal."

Alistair's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he replied, "The dwarf is a bit of an ass, but I don't know if…"

"She means me," Anders interjected in a dull tone. He glanced at Drea and cast his eyes to the ground. The information wasn't new to her, but she could see his shame and frustration.

"This man is not only a wanted apostate," the Templar angrily continued, pointing her finger menacingly, "but he is also to be charged with murder!"

"Murder?" Anders asked incredulously as his snapped his attention forward.

"The two that apprehended you would never have let you slip from their grasp," she retort, her words becoming heated as she shot daggers from her eyes.

Wanting to clarify before the situation escalated, Drea addressed the Templar, "They did die, yes. But they died in a darkspawn attack, not at the hands of a mage – I saw their bodies myself."

Alistair wanted to ask what she meant by attack, but before he could, the woman spat, "But did you see the crime?"

The seriousness of the Templar's accusation was not lost on Drea, and her temper instantly flared. Throwing her shoulders back, her voice turned ice as she questioned, "Are you questioning my intelligence, or my integrity?" The woman's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. Before she could stammer an apology, Drea continued in a low, almost threatening tone, "You have my condolences. I know what it is to lose good men as I have lost many including some in the attack that claimed your men. But I suspect the reason you are so eager to pin Anders with murder is because the only way to stop him from a humiliating eighth escape is to have him at the end of the hangman's noose." As she spoke, she watched Templar's eyes go from panic to outrage. Not letting her get a word in, Drea calmly finished, "But I offer an alternative…Anders is to remain here. I invoke the Right of Conscription."

"What?" the Templar finally shouted. Her face was twisted in anger even as she tried to control her voice, "No, absolutely not!" She turned to the King for support.

Alistair's face grew serious. "Even if I disagreed," he replied after a moment, "the Grey Wardens still retain the Right of Conscription. Her decision stands." The Templar, tense with rage bowed her head in resentful acknowledgement and fell back with the other men. Anders stared at the Warden in shock. "Commander," Alistair asked after the commotion stopped, "May I have a word?"

"Of course," Drea quickly agreed, although she wasn't really sure she wanted to. They both gestured for their respective parties to stand at ease as Alistair led Drea away from the group of people.

After they were far enough away from the ears of the others, Alistair spoke quietly, apparently having already forgotten about the mention of an attack, "Before things got any more out of hand, I just wanted to give you some updates and I didn't think it was a good idea to do that in front of everyone." Drea nodded at his choice, agreeing it was best to keep personal talk away from the troops. "Well…Wynne decided to stay at the Palace to serve as advisor after all. First Enchanter Irving has been after her to take his place though, and I wouldn't be surprised if she eventually does. I suppose we'll have to wait and see…" his voice trailed off for a moment as he thought of what else to tell her. "Oh, and Zevran came to me shortly after you left. He was full of hints and innuendo as usual, but I did give him his pick of men. I suppose technically I don't know what for, but…well," he shrugged. Drea smiled as she nodded. Indeed, Zevran had been vague with her as well and she had to wonder if that was just the way of the Crows.

Before she could say anything, Alistair continued, "Oh and what else? Let's see…oh yes. And you completely devastated Leliana when you left Denerim."

His sudden words shocked her, but she could see in his eyes that he had been planning them since the day she left Denerim. It was a knife stabbing into her old wound and the pain was sharp. With the pain came the anger that he fooled her into thinking he actually wanted to talk with her. "What was I supposed to do?" she snapped, her exhaustion stripping her of her composure, "She was leaving for Orlais."

"Not even a goodbye Dre?" he cut her off. "You really hurt her."

"Do we have to do this now?" Drea had already turned to start walking away.

"Why?" Alistair asked sarcastically, "Is there another time you'd rather hear how much you hurt a dear friend?"

Freezing, Drea finally turned back. "I imagine there would have to be a better time than this, yes. It just so happens that the darkspawn attack was yesterday here at the Vigil. I've got a skeleton crew left and none of the Orlesian Wardens are accounted for. I'm just trying to hold it together and sort through a whole pile of chaos. So if you're quite finished twisting the knife, I don't have any more time to dwell on that one goodbye too many."

Alistair's gloating expression turned to guilt when he realized his poor timing. "It was here?" he asked, not quite willing to apologize.

"Yes. And if I were you, I'd get back to Denerim," she replied, forcing herself to put the vision of a tearful Leliana from her mind.

He shook his head, "I can't, I'm on my way to deal with a problem in the Bannorn…Drea, what's going on?"

Letting out a long hiss of air, Drea finally shrugged, "I honestly don't know Alistair. I can tell you they feel different than the ones of the Blight, more…distant. I think that might be how they were able to surprise the Orlesian Wardens – they may have thought the darkspawn were amassing nearby when they were already in the Vigil. Just stay alert and get back when you can. I'll forward you my whole report once I know more." It was all she could offer; everything was too fresh and confused. Again, she started to walk back towards their parties as she added, "You are welcome to rest or restock if you'd like. I'll have to send the seneschal though; he knows what resources we still have." Alistair followed, but refused her offer. With an awkward goodbye, he was leading his soldiers away from the Vigil, anxious to see to his responsibilities and return to Denerim.

Watching him leave brought up many things: pain, regret, frustration. Having no time for any of those, she focused on what tasks still required her attention. She started to return to the Vigil when Anders approached her, unaware of the churning emotions that lie beneath the surface, "I wanted to thank you for saving my hide Commander."

Pausing to regard the mage she frowned. "Don't be too quick to thank me," she replied gruffly, "I might have just traded you one prison for another."

Within a few steps, one of the guards fell into stride with the group long enough to remind Drea of the prisoner that sat in the dungeon. Sighing, Drea pulled up short, forcing the others to stop with her. Turning to Oghren, she gestured in Voldrik's direction, "I would appreciate if you would finish the business with Voldrik about repairing the Keep's walls."

"Why?" Oghren asked in his deep, gravelly voice, "Because I'm a dwarf too? Like there's some nug humping dwarf code?"

Leaning in close, she replied, "Because I have too many demands on me, but rebuilding the walls is top priority. I need someone I trust on it. Make sure he gets everything he needs." Obviously surprised, Oghren only nodded with a grin. "Go with him," she added to the others.

As she strode into the dungeon with Arkon at her heels, a look of relief washed over the cell guard. "I'm glad you're here Commander. He's been locked up for three nights now. This one was protected while good men died." Drea looked from the nervous cell guard to the prisoner sitting on the floor. His dark brown hair was pulled back by a braid, with some loose bits hanging in his eyes as he furiously glared up at the pair. Her boots clicked loudly as she walked over to the cell door, gesturing for the guard to unlock it.

Seething with anger, the prisoner rose to his feet while she opened the door. With a sneer, he spoke, "If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all that is evil. Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall with lightening bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

Drea crossed her arms, regarding the prisoner with a suspicious look. All the anger from her run in with Alistair was still dangerously close to the surface, but she tried to keep it in check as she evaluated the situation. Cocking her head to the side she responded, "Depends on how angry someone makes me."

"That's right," the prisoner mocked, "And then you kill them. Somehow I just thought the murderer of my father would be more impressive. I am Nathaniel Howe. My family used to own these lands until you murdered my father. Do you even remember my him?"

Charging past the door, Drea stormed up to Nathaniel, "A Howe? Arl Howe killed my family. He deserved everything he got!"

A dark expression crossed Nathaniel's face, "Your family was going to sell us out to the Orlesians." His tone was so matter-of-fact that it was as insulting as his statement.

"My family fought for the King!" Controlling her rage, she finally spat, "I suppose your father told you that."

"How could he? A Grey Warden stole into his estate and slaughtered him before I could even talk to him," he finally lost his cool demeanor and shouted at the Warden.

Taking a step back, Drea nodded, understanding. "And so you came here to kill me then?"

Raising an eyebrow, Nathaniel inclined his head in agreement, "You're quick, I'll give you that."

Arkon began to growl from outside the cell as his back started to haunch aggressively. The cell guard passed his gaze from the two in the cell to the dog - not sure which was the bigger threat. To his surprise, Drea stripped off a gauntlet and flung it to the ground. "Fine," her voice was unnaturally calm, "I'll give you one free shot so you'd better make it count."

From behind them, the guard blurted, "Commander?"

Remembering he was still there, she turned around. "Walk away soldier. Walk away right now," she demanded in a firm tone, leaving no room for arguing. Quickly, the guard hurried from the room. Turning back to Nathaniel, she threw her other gauntlet down at his feet.

Nathaniel froze, stunned by the sudden turn in conversation. For a moment, his anger was suspended by his surprise, "I…Are you serious?"

"You've wanted this for too long to stop now right? One shot, right here," she growled as she pointed to her chin. "Do it," she urged, quickly adding, "if you think it will make it all go away."

Standing there with his hand balled into a tight fist he frowned, unsure if this was some sort of a joke. Was she baiting him? Hesitantly he asked, "What?"

"The anger," she replied, her voice dripping with contempt. Still standing toe to toe with the Howe she pushed, "Hitting me…killing me…it won't make it go away. I should know best on that. I hated your father, and for what he did to my family I killed him. Maker's Blood, I'd kill him again if I could." Drea paused, and with a sudden moroseness she finished, "But it didn't change anything. My family was still gone, and even after I killed him, I was left with all this…anger. It didn't go away. But hey…maybe you'll have better luck."

Nathaniel's jaw clenched as tightly as his fist while he stared the Warden down. His nostrils flared, but he stayed his hand, too unsure at her sudden invitation. Although he could easily picture cracking his fist against her arrogant mouth he was sure it would be sealing his own fate. In a quick motion, Drea finally pushed him hard, slamming him against the wall. "Come on Howe!" Nathaniel's eyes sparked with fire, but still, he stayed his hand, showing remarkable control. Drawing her face up to his she hissed, "Trust me, no matter how much hate you feel for me I feel for you too. So hit me! You know you want to."

Finally stepping forward, Nathaniel shoved Drea off him. "I…I don't know what I want." he finally admitted. I did come here planning to kill you but…once I got here I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left."

It was Drea's turn to clench her jaw as she broke eye contact, trying to stop herself from reacting any further. A piece of her hair had fallen loose and trembled lightly - a silent sign of her fury. Nathaniel sighed, "Look, I'm sorry about whatever happened with the Couslands. It sounds horrible. The entire war was. And…I was squired away in the Free Marches, so I truly didn't know what my father was up to. But whatever my father did, my entire family shouldn't suffer for it. We're pariahs now…we've lost everything."

Finally looking back into Nathaniel's eyes, she replied stiffly, "My entire family didn't deserve to die either. I've lost everything."

Keeping his eyes fixed on her, Nathaniel's lips drew into a tight line. He remained silent.

Suddenly, the door burst open and the Seneschal rushed into the room, "Is everything alright? The guard said I had to hurry…" he paused, seeing the two were only standing and talking. Cautiously he continued, "But I see you have met the prisoner. An…interesting fellow isn't he? Have you decided what to do with him?"

Taking another step back, giving them both a bit more breathing room she asked. "I heard it took four Wardens to take you down?"

Nathaniel shrugged, "Yes, well I didn't spend my time away chasing skirts. I learned useful things, fighting, poisons, traps…"

Nodding Drea spoke over her shoulder to the Seneschal, "Perfect. Then I invoke the Right of Conscription." Turning on her heel, she walked towards the cell door.

Taking a few steps after her, Nathaniel sputtered, "What? No, absolutely not! Hang me first!"

Having reached the door, Drea spun back to face him and smoothly closed the cell door. Coldly, she replied, "At what point did I suggest I was giving you a choice?"

Seeing he was locked back up in the cell, Nathaniel gripped the bars as he asked, "Do you really want a Howe as a Grey Warden? A Howe that wants you dead? A Howe that you want dead?"

With his eyes widening in surprise, Seneschal Varel broke into the conversation, "A Howe?"

Waving Varel into silence, Drea locked the door before looking back up at Nathaniel. Trying to be casual, she nodded, "In the name of duty, I have had to suffer far worse. As a Howe, I expect you are capable of doing the same." Walking away from the cell towards the exit, she motioned for Varel to follow. Over her shoulder, she added, "The way I see it here are two outcomes for me. Either I get a powerful new recruit. Or I rid the world of another Howe."

The door slammed loudly behind her as she left the dungeon, leaving Nathaniel alone with his grim thoughts.