If Loghain had believed that the Cousland boy would show him some sort of appreciation or gratitude for his rescue, he was quickly relieved of such a foolish notion. Fergus treated Loghain no differently from how the Couslands had always treated the Mac Tirs. With a quiet, polite disdain. Not that he had any more love for their family than they have ever shown for his, but it grated at him that the boy had turned up his nose at him almost as soon as he was able to hold his head upright. At least he had healed quickly. The mages had seen to that.

So he sat inside Cailan's tent with the newly-healing Fergus. The king had brought in chairs rather than his usual method of making people stand before him. Eamon had also bullied his way into the meeting, much to Loghain's chagrin. He'd been none too pleased to find the arl was there in Ostagar when he returned, especially when he heard that Cailan had already sent a bird informing Anora to call a Landsmeet. That meant the insufferable old fool would be traveling with them to Denerim. At least his Orlesian whore of a wife wasn't with him. Loghain clenched his teeth together whenever his eyes passed over Eamon's form. It never ceased to amaze him that Eamon and Rowan shared the same blood.

"So are you going to tell me what this is all about?" Fergus asked of the king, pulling Loghain from his musings.

The four of them were not quite equals, but perhaps they were close enough that Cailan had seen fit to do away with titles for the meeting. The king put on a smile, but it was obviously forced. "We've had news from Highever, but I wanted to wait until you were healed before I shared it with you."

Fergus nodded. "About my father, I assume. Why is he not here? He and Rendon Howe should have been right behind me, along with their men. Yet it's been weeks since I arrived." Loghain could see the tension in the boy's eyes. He was not stupid, it was obvious. He knew something was wrong.

"I'm sorry, Fergus," Cailan said, leaning forward in his chair. "He's dead. There was an attack on Highever, apparently the night after you left, and..."

"Who?" Fergus demanded, his face turning red with anger. "Who would dare..."

"From the reports we've received, it was Arl Howe. I have yet to hear a reason for why, which is why the Landsmeet has been called." Cailan leaned back in his chair.

Perhaps the king was expecting some sort of explanation from Fergus, but Loghain was not. Not that he needed one, exactly. He'd heard the whispered accusations Rendon had brought against the Cousland family. He claimed they were conspiring with the Orlesians. A damning thing, if true. The trouble, though, was that Loghain never fully trusted the arl. Howe was a sniveling weasel of a man, often more content to sit back and plot rather than actually move forward with a plan. He was the sort of man that others allied themselves with not because they wanted to, but rather only when it was out of a sense of necessity. However, the fact that he had moved against Highever either meant that he had irrefutable proof, or he had seen a weakness and attacked it. Knowing of Loghain's own hatred for Orlais, Rendon had gone to him with his rumors, but he'd never been able to produce solid proof when Loghain demanded it of him.

"And what of my mother?" Fergus asked in a strangled voice, but Cailan just shook his head. "My sister? My wife?" He choked, his voice thick with emotion when he asked his next question. "My son?" When no one answered, Fergus let out a mournful, "Oh... Maker."

Everyone turned away, in an attempt to give the man a little privacy in his grief. No matter how much he might have disliked the man, Loghain could understand the pain Fergus must have been experiencing. At least he did not disgrace himself by sobbing aloud. After an adequate amount of time had passed, Cailan cleared his throat softly. "Whatever Howe's reasons, he will be made to explain himself when..."

Fergus cut him off, his outrage bringing him nearly to a shout. "Explain himself? I demand that he be executed for the murders of my family! That traitorous ass stood in our home, assuring us that his men had been delayed but they would be there soon. That was why I went while my father stayed behind." He let out a slew of curses that had even Loghain cringing as he described what he thought of Rendon Howe and what he saw as a suitable punishment for the man.

"I understand your anger," Cailan said, trying to reestablish control of the meeting. "And as soon as you are ready and able to travel, we will begin our journey back to Denerim. The other nobles throughout Ferelden should be on their way as well. I mentioned in the missive I sent that you were returning from Ostagar, and that the matter of what had happened in Highever would be discussed, along with the issue of this Blight that seems to be upon us." At that, he turned to Loghain, and the teyrn couldn't help but notice the tinge of smugness in the king's voice. "While you were away, there was a night when nearly all of the Grey Wardens dreamed of the Archdemon. It seems this really is a Blight after all."

"Yes... I'm well aware," Loghain said, keeping his tone even. "The two Wardens who were traveling with me were similarly affected." It took an effort not to roll his eyes at the obvious disappointment on Cailan's face. He wondered what reaction the king had been hoping for.

"Your Majesty," a guard called from outside the tent. "The Grey Warden Commander is here."

Cailan nodded, turning to Fergus. "You are dismissed then. We will prepare to leave here in a few days."

Fergus glanced at Loghain and Eamon before turning back to the king. "It this meeting you are to have with the Grey Warden concerns the teyrn and the arl, then I will stay as well. With my..." He audibly swallowed. "With my father gone, I am the teyrn of Highever now."

Loghain wondered if Cailan would point out that Howe had proclaimed himself to be the new teyrn of the north, but the king simply commanded the guard to show Duncan in. He entered and moved to stand in the center of the tent. "You sent for me, Your Majesty," he stated.

"I did," Cailan agreed. "We need to discuss how we're going to build up our armies. Each of my arls will provide men, of course, but I fear that won't be enough. The Orlesian Wardens..."

"No," Loghain cut in, sharply enough that everyone turned to look at him. "I'd rather see Ferelden fall to the Blight than to give it back to the damned Orlesians." Cailan gaped at him, but Loghain just stared back at him. "You would undo everything that your father and I worked for? Your mother, too."

The awkward silence was broken by Duncan, who cleared his throat before he spoke. "The Grey Wardens formed treaties with the Dalish, the Circle mages, and the dwarves of Orzammar many, many years ago. We have recovered these treaties, and I intend to send men to each of these groups, to gather troops from each. That will help bolster Ferelden's armies."

Loghain didn't like the idea of relying on the Grey Wardens at all, whether they were from Ferelden or Orlais. However, he had to admit that Duncan's idea was slightly more appealing than Cailan's had been. The suggestion of sending to Orlais for aid was completely unacceptable. Loghain would do everything in his power to see that didn't happen.

"And when will you do this?" Cailan asked him.

"I will be leaving a small force here, in Ostagar," Duncan said. "But the rest of us will be leaving in a day or two, Your Majesty."

Cailan nodded. "So the same time we'll be leaving to return to Denerim, then," he mused. "Very well. When you have gathered your men, bring them to Denerim as well."

"Your Majesty," Duncan said, bowing his head a little.

Cailan obviously took that as agreement or assent, but Loghain had to wonder if Duncan would do as asked. Technically, the king had no authority over the Grey Wardens. It was clear that Cailan believed himself to be a friend of the Wardens, and therefore assumed that they would do as he asked, as he commanded. Loghain knew that was not how their order worked. They had their own agenda and their own priorities, and he doubted there was anything Cailan could say to change that. But he wouldn't say anything to convince the king of that. If Cailan believed the Wardens would do as he wished, then perhaps that would help keep him from consorting with the Orlesians. Even the thought of such actions made Loghain wrinkle his nose in disgust.

The meeting did not go on for much longer. Despite his eagerness, there was little that Cailan could plan for at so early a time. Once they were finally dismissed, Loghain went immediately to Cauthrien. He let her know of the plans, so that she could see to readying the men to march. On his way back to his tent, Loghain looked around. They would be leaving that cursed place soon. He was more than ready to go.

The mages were the first to leave Ostagar, not wanting to travel with everyone else. Sayre figured that was just as well. She had seen few enough mages before, but they always made her a little nervous. Everyone else left at about the same time, at least all of those who were leaving Ostagar, but she couldn't be sure if one could really say they were all traveling together. The king, the teyrn, and the arl all traveled at the front of the procession, along with their armies, while the Grey Wardens stayed to the rear. That was just fine with Sayre.

Duncan had explained the plan to all of them before they set out. They would be traveling north to Lothering, and from there they would split into two groups. One of the older Wardens, a man named Bessom that Sayre had never really spoken to before, was to lead the larger group west from there, first to the Circle Tower via Redcliffe, then on to Orzammar. Sayre would be in the group led by Duncan, which would be going east from Lothering into the Brecilian forest to seek out the Dalish. Sayre had mixed feelings about her assignment. She didn't envy the group going to the Circle, but she would have liked to see Orzammar. She was curious about the Dalish as well, but she'd enough stories to know they weren't terribly fond of city-dwelling elves. But she wasn't given a choice in which group she was to join. Duncan had assigned the newest of the Grey Wardens to travel with him, as he told them there was much for him to teach them about the coming Blight.

She tried her best to learn the names of all of the other Wardens who would be traveling with her, but it was hard because she still continued to hold herself apart from the rest of them. Having Lady at her side helped a little with her nervousness, as she knew the mabari would help protect her if she was ever in any sort of trouble. It would still take some time for her to be completely comfortable around so many humans, however.

A few days after they left Ostagar, Duncan's lessons began. Sometimes she was the only person in attendance, and sometimes there were up to five or six others. The lessons were always informative, but they were often surprising, too. Finding out about her shortened lifespan was certainly a shock, but as Sayre was only twenty years old, having thirty more didn't seem like such a troublesome thing. It was when she found out about the affects the Joining would have on her body, in that she would be unable to have children in the future, that upset her the most. Luckily that meeting with Duncan had been between just the two of them, and when it was over, she retreated from the others to be by herself.

The other Wardens were circled around the fire, and their laughter carried to where Sayre was sitting, by herself near her tent, her cloak wrapped around her body for warmth. Lady sat next to her, the mabari's chin resting on Sayre's leg, but she barely noticed. Instead she twisted at the ring on her left hand, the one that Nelaros would have given her had their wedding ceremony not been interrupted. She had been trying very hard not to think about him or that day, but Duncan's words brought everything back to her.

Though she never would have admitted it to Shianni or Soris, Sayre had actually been excited about her wedding. Sure, she had been nervous at first, but then she met Nelaros, and he was so nice... and so handsome. And while she could never be quite sure of what their life might have been like together, she was certain it would have included children. Now that choice was taken from her, without her even realizing it. Just as so many other choices had been stolen from her. Sayre brushed a tear from her cheek, angry at herself for being as upset as she was. She certainly wouldn't have been able to have children had Duncan not saved her from the noose. No, it was all Vaughn's fault. If only the man had just left her family alone. Sayre heard footsteps approaching, and she realized how distracted she'd allowed herself to become when she looked up to see a figure sitting down next to her.

"You... looked cold, so I brought you some tea," Alistair said. She noticed he wasn't quite looking at her, which could only mean he'd noticed the tears on her face. Wonderful.

"Thank you," she mumbled, gratefully accepting the warm cup to hold between her chilled fingers.

He didn't say anything, and Sayre watched him out of the corner of her eye as she sipped her tea. Rather than press her, Alistair focused his attention on Lady, scratching her behind her ears, then on her stomach as the mabari rolled over to offer it to him. When she finished the last of the tea, Sayre shivered, and it was then that Alistair glanced at her.

"Why don't you come over closer to the fire?" He asked. "It seems silly to sit way over here and freeze."

"I just... needed a moment," she said in a quiet voice.

Alistair frowned at her. "Maker, Sayre," he grumbled. "How many times do we have to..."

She cut him off. "No, it... it's nothing like that. I just... Duncan's latest lesson was..."

"Oh," Alistair replied. "And which lesson was that?"

Sayre could feel her face going a little red. It was embarrassing to admit Duncan's news affected her so much. Grey Wardens shouldn't really care about such things, should they? "Just... about one more way in which the Wardens are denied the ability to have normal lives." When he gave her a confused look, she shrugged a shoulder. "You know, the ability to have a... a family."

"Oh, that," Alistair said in a strange voice. "Right, I... guess that part never bothered me much. I mean, I was raised in the Chantry, after all, so I guess I'd grown up used to the idea that I would never have a family in that way. But..." He gestured to the other Wardens. "We are a family, and we could be your family, if you'll accept us. You'll never want for brothers, that's for sure. And if you want to feel like a mother, well, I'm sure there are plenty of us who would let you clean up after us, darn our socks, make our food, things like that..."

He grinned at her then, and Sayre couldn't help but smile as she shook her head at him. "Such a gracious offer," she said, and he grinned even more.

"I know," Alistair replied, trying to sound serious. "My generosity knows no bounds. Now come on. Come sit by the fire before you freeze to death." He stood and offered her his hand, and Sayre only hesitated a moment before accepting it.

The rest of the trip to Lothering went quickly. The Wardens planned on staying there for a few days, but the king and his men decided to continue on to Denerim. Sayre was happy to see them all go, glad that their group was reduced to only Grey Wardens. It was mid-afternoon when they arrived in the town, and it was decided that they would all set up their tents north of town, since the only inn in the town was nowhere near large enough to accommodate them all. As she was wandering about the town, Sayre noticed something odd. There was a very large man locked inside a cage. He noticed her staring, and he just stared back.

Feeling bold, though likely it was mostly due to the mabari at her side, Sayre went over to him. "Hello," she said, peering up at him.

The giant grunted at her. "Have you come to throw stones at me as well?" He asked in a deep, gruff voice. "I will not be made to amuse you, if that's why you're here."

Sayre's eyebrows lifted in surprise. She took an involuntary step back, and she might have fled from him had her hand not brushed across Lady's head. The touch of her mabari calmed her. "Why are you in this cage?" Sayre asked him.

The giant huffed. "I was put here by the Chantry," he said.

"Why?" Sayre asked, though she winced when the word left her mouth.

"I heard he killed an entire family," Ben said, coming up beside her. "Even the children."

"It is as he says," the giant confirmed, much to Sayre's surprise.

"Best leave this one alone," Ben put in before strolling away, towards the direction of the tents, a bag slung over his shoulder. It was obvious he had hurried through any shopping he'd needed to do in town.

Another grunt escaped from the giant's lips as he watched Ben leave. "Perhaps you should follow your friend's advice and leave me be. I am to die soon enough."

Sayre knew he was probably right, that she should leave him alone, but something about the giant of a man tugged at her. Maybe it was because she would have been left in a similar predicament, had Duncan not saved her. Thoughts of Duncan made her look into the town. She wondered what he would make of the giant in the cage. "I'll be back," she said before hurrying into town, not waiting to hear the giant's response.

But when she finally found Duncan, she realized she had no idea what she was going to say to him. It seemed he'd already heard of the prisoner, however. "What is it you're asking me to do?" He asked her as she stuttered before him.

"I... don't know," Sayre admitted. "It just doesn't seem right, leaving him there in that cage like that. Are they just leaving him there to starve? That seems... unkind, even if he is a... if he's done the things they claim."

Duncan laid a hand on her shoulder, "Grey Wardens are not meant to interfere in civil matters, Sayre."

"You did to save me," she countered, not able to help the touch of sullenness that tinged her voice. Why did she even care, she wondered. The giant was no one to her. She owed him nothing, nor did she think he would expect anything from her.

Duncan sighed softly. "What I did with you, Sayre, was for the good of the order." His voice took on a gentle tone. "I did not conscript you out of kindness, nor because I believed you to be innocent, or that you were justified in what you did. I conscripted you because I knew you would be an asset to the Grey Wardens, especially considering the times we are in right now." He squeezed her shoulder. "I can look into the matter, but I can't promise anything. Our main focus right now is to gather our armies to fight the Archdemon and the Blight."

He dismissed her then, as he had other things to attend to, but Sayre couldn't help but feel like she was slinking away with her tail between her legs. But what had she really expected? Trying to push it from her mind, she went in search of an armorer who could repair her armor. He apparently agreed with Loghain's assessment of her equipment, in that she needed a new set, but Sayre wasn't surprised to learn he had nothing that would fit her that was pre-made, and she knew they wouldn't be lingering in Lothering long enough for her to commission him to make something for her specifically. However, once her group found the Dalish elves, they might be persuaded to trade with her for new armor.

As the sun began to set, Sayre set off towards the tents, most of the small purchases she'd made tucked safely into her pack. One small package she kept in her hands, and as she passed by the giant's cage, she paused, slipping it between the bars.

"What is this?" The giant asked, not moving to take it.

"I... thought you might be hungry," Sayre said.

He peered at her a moment before shaking his head. "Do you do this to taunt me?"

"What?" Sayre blinked at him. "No, I..." She fidgeted.

He shook his head again, as if puzzled by her actions. "Your kindness is as unexpected as it is unnecessary. Food and water will only delay the inevitable."

Sayre frowned. "Oh. But I..."

"Please take it away," the giant asked.

She moved to take the package back, but then she stopped. If he didn't want to eat, that was up to him. She turned and continued on to the campsite. Sayre heard the giant grumbling behind her, but she didn't look to see what he did with the package of food she left behind.

Two days later, they all rose at dawn to leave Lothering. She had been too busy packing up her tent to notice Bessom's group leaving, heading west towards Redcliffe, but Sayre glanced at the group following Duncan east and was pleased to see it contained many of the Wardens she knew best. Besides herself, the group was made up of Alistair, Leonas, Ben, Eddro, and Nevar, as well as some others she didn't know well. A surprising addition to the group was a woman she'd seen around town. She was pretty, with hair a shade of red that was much darker than Sayre's own straw-colored tresses. She was dressed in the clothing of the Chantry, and Sayre wondered what she was doing with them. From what she gathered from the others, the woman, apparently named Leliana, had all but begged Duncan to be allowed to travel with them. The woman caught her looking at her and gave Sayre a friendly smile. Maybe it would be nice, to have another woman in the group.

As they were making their way out of town, Sayre felt a pang that she hadn't been able to do more for the giant. She glanced in the direction of the cage and gave a start when she realized it was empty. "Duncan," she called, making her way over to him. "What... what happened to..." She turned her attention back to the cage.

Duncan's response was in a low voice. "I had a talk yesterday with the Revered Mother. She agreed with your assessment that the man could not be left there to starve." When he said no more, Sayre's face fell.

"Oh," she said.

Duncan turned from her, calling for everyone to begin their march east, away from Lothering. Sayre quickly let herself fall to the back of the group. She gave the town one last look over her shoulder. Why did she care so much what happened to the giant? He was a murderer, after all. He had admitted as much. But then, was she any different? Maybe there was nothing she could have done for the man, but Sayre couldn't help but feel guilty that she might have played a part in the giant's death, assuming he'd been executed instead of left to starve.

Lady woofed at her and licked her hand, bringing Sayre's attention to the fact that she was lagging behind the others. She scratched the mabari behind her ears before hurrying to catch up.