It was already dusk by the time Elissa awoke and even then she did not cherish the idea of rolling out of bed. It had only been a fortnight since she had her own bed at Castle Cousland (was that really all?) and yet it felt as though it had been ages since she had slept on a mattress. She rolled over, relishing the feeling of actual sheets against her skin. The sunset was shining a lovely crimson color about the walls of her tiny chamber and in the common room below she could hear loud conversation and light music.

She tried in vain for several long minutes to go back to sleep, reminding herself that it could be a while before she might get another opportunity like this. However, the siren call of the festivities downstairs proved too much for her to resist and finally she swung her legs out of bed. Sometime in the middle of the day, she had awoken, feeling rather uncomfortable sleeping in her leathers, and so she had changed into her bedclothes. She looked at the crumpled form of the leather armor in a pile next to the bed and frowned. Normally she preferred to be armored everywhere she went, however it did not seem appropriate to go to something of a party geared to the teeth. But she did not have many clothes available to her; only a few dirty old pants and some loose tunics that had once belonged to her brother.

It was these she clothed herself in, shuddering to think how she would look amongst her companions dressed in such a way. One person in particular came to mind, and her face burned at the thought. Nevertheless, she left her pride behind her as she marched pointedly downstairs to join the others. The small bar was full to the bursting now. A number of templars who must have just come off duty from their sweep of the mage tower, eager to relax and celebrate Uldred's defeat had their own corner and cheered at her when she came down the steps. There was also a group of common folk, who appeared to frequent the tavern, with stools at the bar; and next to the fire was her ragtag band of companions.

Leliana was the one playing the music. She was sitting on the hearth, with a lute across her lap, strumming it lightly and singing a song about a human woman who had been raised by a clan of elves. Morrigan and Sten each were avoiding conversation with the others; Morrigan was reading a book and occasionally taking a large gulp from the pewter stein sitting before her; Sten was sitting apart from everyone, glowering at the commoners with disdain. Wynne and Alistair were chatting enthusiastically, Alistair more than the mage. Elissa noticed, with a private chuckle, three empty steins before him, and a fourth half-drained in his hand. As she approached the table, he broke away from the conversation and turned his abnormally rosy face toward her, "Elissa!" He slurred joyously. "Finally you're up lazy bones! Come have a drink! The templars are paying!" He turned away, pointing at the barmaid tending to some other patrons and shouted rather belligerently, "Oi, another round for us, please."

The barmaid peered over her shoulder at Alistair, sighing, and Elissa clapped a hand to her face, taking her seat next to her besotted friend. After a moment, their drinks arrived and Elissa downed her first glass with enthusiasm. The mood amongst the companions was light. It had been a relief to come through their experience in the tower with no casualties and few injuries; furthermore, their gamble had paid off and now one of the treaties had been enforced. Elissa and Alistair no longer stood alone against the blight. The templars made good on their promise to keep the companions' drinks filled, and so it did not take long for Elissa to reach a state of drunkenness to match Alistair's, who by now was giggling to himself quietly. It was the first time all night they had been relatively left alone together. Wynne and Leliana were cheerfully leading the peasants and templars in a round of a very popular folk drinking song, Morrigan had retreated to the darkest and quietest corner of the bar where she could still get the barmaid's attention, and Sten had disappeared somewhere.

"Hey, I've got a question," Elissa said suddenly, leaning across the table so Alistair could hear her over the din.

The templar's eyes widened and he scooted closer, still giggling like a little girl. "Mmhmm," he replied with the air of someone about to discuss some great state secret.

"If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never...?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.

However, Alistair was either very good at playing hard to get, or he honestly didn't understand what she had meant to ask him, because he only tilted his head to the side and said, "Never...? Never what? Never had a good pair of shoes?" He smirked then, and Elissa knew he was just being coy and avoiding the question.

"You know what I mean," she replied, leaning back in her chair and taking another long gulp from her stein.

"I'm not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham?" He paused here to giggle. "Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

Elissa rolled her eyes. "See, now you're just making fun of me."

"Make fun of you, dear lady, perish the thought!" He tapped her nose playfully and Elissa belatedly realized a moment later how intimate the gesture had been. She didn't have time to ponder it, however, for his smirk was back in place. "Well, tell me: have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

It occurred to Elissa how tricky answering this question would be. If she responded to the query he had asked, she would say yes, she had. She could tell him about the time her childhood friend, Eriale, had challenged her to a match of bravery. They had each given each other a series of grueling tasks, ending in who could stand with their tongue frozen to a post the longest. He may get a good laugh about it and the conversation would most likely end, leaving Elissa without his answer to her question, one she honestly wanted to know. Alternatively, she could address the double entendre, in which case the answer would be no. She had never let any man get close enough emotionally to her, and she had no interest in laying with someone she didn't otherwise respect or care about. However, with Alistair, there was no way to know which meaning he expected her to respond to. She could ruin a fun joke by answering the wrong way. It struck her how political and frustrating flirting could be. Finally, she arranged her expression into one of even indifference and said, "No, I've never licked a lamppost in winter."

"Good, I hear its quite painful!" Alistair exclaimed and Elissa sighed inwardly at having botched the conversation. "I remember one of the younger initiates did it on a dare, once, and there was pointing and laughing. Oh, the humanity!" He chuckled heartily and drained the remainder of his seventh drink. A long silence passed between them and Elissa was just trying to come up with a way to break the awkward moment, when he spoke again, sounding surprisingly more sober than he had just a minute before. "I, myself, have also never done... it. That." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not that I never thought about it, of course, but... you know..."

"You've never had the opportunity?" Elissa supplied.

He shrugged, picking at some of the wood on the table. "Well, living in the Chantry... is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentlemen, especially in the presence of beautiful women, such as yourself." He looked up, his expression sheepish. "That's not so bad, is it?"

Elissa felt her face flush and she turned away to hide it. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course you are!" Alistair exclaimed. "You're ravishing, resourceful, and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

She still couldn't bring herself to look in his direction, but her hand found his hesitantly and gave it a squeeze. "I would never hurt you," she whispered softly and more seriously than the situation called for. There was a long silence and then Alistair's fingers entwined with hers, and his other hand touched her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Nor I, you," he replied, just as quietly and for a moment Elissa's heart stopped. It was like everything around them had melted into the background and all that was left was this moment in time. His hazel eyes were locked on to her green ones, both speaking volumes that neither would dare say aloud. The warmth of his hand laced with hers was burning throughout her whole body. And she felt violently sick to her stomach, like she was about to leap across a canyon with no way of knowing whether or not she would come out alive.

Then it was over. The din of the festivities came back in full and Alistair's goofy grin was back in place. "Now," he was saying. "Let us get back to the party, lest your risque talk make my ears blush."

Elissa was all too happy to let him go, as he pulled his hand almost reluctantly from hers, and tottered off to join the singing peasants. As for herself, the conversation had an astoundingly sobering effect on her, and she sat quietly at their table collecting herself. She was just about to rise and order another drink when Sten's deep, rumbling voice sounded right behind her, "You are not quite as callow as I thought. That is... unexpected."

For the second time in her life, the qunari had managed to make Elissa nearly jump out of her skin, and when she turned to face him he almost had a half-smirk on his face at her surprise. She cleared her throat, trying to cover the embarrassing moment. "Callow?" She replied, ever more conscious of the slur in her tone. "You thought I was callow?"

"You sound surprised," he said, his half-smirk twitching. "You must have heard this before. You'll get over it. Eventually."

Elissa rolled her eyes, not in much mood to deal with the qunari's bizarre sense of flattery. "Remind me again why I let you out of that cage," she muttered with just enough good naturedness so that he wouldn't assume that she truly had regrets.

"I have wondered that myself," he replied. "It was one of the many things I find puzzling about your behavior."

The junior warden turned around in her chair so that she could get a proper look at him standing behind her. His face was blank, as it usually was, his arms folded over his chest as he stared down at her. She had the feeling he still had something he wanted to say and yet he was not saying it. She sighed, "Well, I find plenty of things puzzling about you, too."

Sten frowned at this. "What is there to be puzzled by? I am a simple creature. I like swords. I follow orders. There is nothing else to know about me."

Elissa could only shrug. "I don't think you're that simple."

Surprisingly, the qunari's frown turned into almost an impressed smile. "As I said, you are not as callow as I thought."

A moment of silence passed between them and in spite of herself, Elissa smiled back at him. She couldn't describe how, but she knew that she had just crossed a monumental bridge with Sten. She could almost call him a friend now. She decided she dare ask a question. "So now will you tell me why you were caged?"

"I caged myself," came Sten's typically backwards reply. "A weak mind is a deadly foe, as you are no doubt aware."

"Are you saying you put yourself in that cage, then?" Elissa asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Sten shook his head. "I simply know that my failures are my own. I told you before that I was sent here. I was not alone. I came to your lands with seven of the Beresaad - my brothers - to seek answers about the Blight for our Arishok. We made our way across the Ferelden countryside without incident, seeing nothing of the threat we were sent to observe. Until the night we camped by Lake Calenhad." His countenance grew darker. "They came from everywhere. The earth beneath our feet, the air above us, our own shadows harbored the darkspawn. I saw the last of the creatures cut down, too late. I fell."

Elissa folded her arms on the back of her chair and rested her chin on them. "Sounds like what happened to me at Ostagar."

He nodded in reply. "I heard the stories of Ostagar. Your kith stood their ground when others fled. No one could do more than that." He regarded her with a strange look that she could not name before moving on with his story. "I don't know how long I lay on the battlefield among the dead, nor do I know how the farmers found me. I only know that when I woke, I was no longer among my brothers. And my sword was gone from my hand."

In her mind Elissa was putting the pieces together. She recalled what she had heard from the Revered Mother in Lothering about his crimes and the difficulty she had in convincing Sten to use a new sword. Her voice was quiet when she asked, "What did you do?"

"I searched for it. And when that failed, I asked my rescuers what had become of it."

"And then?"

Sten bowed his head in shame. "I killed them. With my bare hands. I did... I knew they did not have the blade. They had no reason to lie to me. I panicked. Unthinking, I struck them down."

Elissa gaped at him. "Over a sword?" She said, incredulous. "That's terrible."

He looked up at her and she was struck with how sorrowful he seemed. "I know. I cannot justify what I have done. My honor is forfeit." He flexed his right hand instinctively, continuing, "That sword was made for my hand alone. I have carried it from the day I was set into the Beresaad. I was to die wielding it for my people. Even if I could cross Ferelden and Tevinter unarmed and alone to return to Par Vollen, I would be slain on sight by the antaam. They would know me as soulless, a deserter. No soldier would cast aside his blade while he drew breath."

"But couldn't you search for it?" Elissa asked.

"If I knew where to look, it would be in my hand now," he replied simply.

She considered this. "You said you fought the darkspawn near Lake Calenhad? Do you remember where?"

"It could not have been far from this very location," Sten said, looking at her curiously. "The mage tower was well within sight."

Elissa smiled, "Don't worry, we'll find it."

Sten looked as though he didn't quite believe her but something in his face lifted. "Perhaps those words are empty but... thank you all the same."

"Why don't we go look around right now?" She suggested. "We're right here and may not get another chance for a while."

"At night?" The qunari replied dryly.

Elissa shrugged, "If you don't want to, that's fine. But we're leaving first thing in the morning, no matter how hung over Alistair is."

Sten sighed exasperatedly, but could not hide the hopeful glint in his eye. "Parshaara, let us move quickly then." Then without another word, he moved to the door of the tavern and slipped out quietly. Elissa rose from her seat, looking around behind her. Alistair was now surrounded by a group of drunken patrons, dancing some sort of jig. She shook her head to herself and followed Sten out.

The night was warm, thankfully, as her clothes provided scant protection from the elements. Furthermore, the sky was free of clouds. Elissa had a good feeling about their quest when she said, "Okay, lets go find your campsite."

"It was south of the tower," Sten replied and began marching pointedly in that direction.

They walked in silence for a while, Elissa growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she looked up at her companion with a friendly smile. "I have a question."

"I am hardly surprised," was Sten's response, but the silence that followed indicated that he was waiting to hear the query.

"What's an Arishok?" Elissa asked, undeterred.

Sten seemed a little surprise that she had remembered the word from their previous conversation. "The one who commands the antaam - the body of the qunari."

"And why does he care about the Blight?"

"Why do you?" Sten looked down at her, lifting his eyebrows.

Elissa shrugged. "It's my job," she replied simply.

"Exactly. You don't ask. Nor do I. The Arishok sends me, and I go."

"So, does that mean you have to report back at some point?" She wondered aloud.

"Yes, but..." He sighed. "If we do not find my sword I will not be able to return home. As I said, if I tried to enter Par Vollen, I would be slain for desertion."

"I'm sure we'll find it," Elissa reassured him with a smile. "But if we don't, you can stay with us."

Sten frowned at her. "You say this as though you have a home to offer me, when you do not have one yourself." There was a long, uncomfortable silence, then he added softly, "Thank you."

No more was spoken for nearly three quarters of an hour, and Elissa was just beginning to regret her compassion and hasty suggestion to start the search right away when Sten stopped abruptly, looking back the way they came at the silhouette of the tower against the sky. "We camped here. Now, Warden, where do you suggest we start looking?"

"How about we ask him," Elissa said, pointing to a figure about twenty yards away, who Sten had evidently not noticed. "Look, he's got a lot of stuff with him. I wonder if he's a scavenger, picking over the battleground for things to sell."

Sten growled and began moving in the man's direction, but Elissa stopped him. "Let me do the talking," she advised. "Your presence alone will be enough to scare the pants off him."

"Very well," the qunari begrudgingly agreed.

They continued walking, and once the man caught sight of them in the moonlight, he called out to them, "Ho there, travelers, care to take a look at my -" He stopped speaking suddenly as he noticed Sten and visibly paled. "-Maker's breath!" He stepped back involuntarily as the pair came up. "I beg your pardon, friend, you... ah... startled me a bit."

"You haven't seen a sword lying around here, have you?" Elissa asked conversationally.

The man kept his beady eyes on Sten as he replied, "W-why, are you looking to buy one?"

It was clear to Elissa that they had struck gold. This man had taken the sword and surely anything else he could find off the bodies of Sten's fallen comrades from the battlefield, and was hocking them to anyone who would pay a few silvers for the goods. Sten, apparently, had the same thought. He stepped forward menacingly, bearing down on the scavenger. "Where is my sword?"

"I - I don't have it!" The man cried, holding up his arms over his head and cowering away. "I swear by Andraste's knickers! I sold it already!"

Elissa folded her arms over her chest, lifting her eyebrows. "That seems awfully convenient."

"It's true!" He whimpered pathetically. "Maker, please, you have to believe me! If I had it I'd give it to you! I sold it to a dwarf. Name of Dwyn. Said he was on his way to Redcliffe!"

Sten glanced at Elissa who nodded, and said to the man. "If you're lying, you do know we'll be back?"

"I'm not, I promise you!"

"We'll see," Sten growled in his most frightening voice yet and with that the two left the man alone to soil his trousers in private.

As soon as they had put enough distance behind them, Elissa said, "First thing in the morning we'll send a courier along to Redcliffe. I meant to do it anyway, to have them begin preparing their troops, but I'll make sure the Arl has someone looking for this Dwyn person. With luck you'll have your sword back after we're done in Orzammar." She smiled apologetically up at her companion. "Do you think you can wait that long?"

Sten sighed. "It has been twenty eight days since I last held it in my hand. I had thought I would never see it again." He paused. "I will wait."

Elissa was fully sober and quite tired from their near two hour walk by the time they arrived back at the docks. She was just thinking to herself that she hoped Alistair had passed out in bed or at the very least had stopped drinking (Maker, he was going to be a pain in the morning when they would be trying to leave), when she suddenly heard his voice ringing out through the still night air.

"I heard you the first time, you dolt!" He was shouting. "And I'm telling you, that cannot be true! Now tell me, where did she go?"

She and Sten rounded a corner, heading for the tavern and spotted the templar yelling at one of the other patrons, who was leaning over barrel, sick as a dog. He retched in response and vomited a little, and Alistair reeled back in disgust. "Drunken fool." He muttered, turning away, and it was that moment that he spotted the pair. "Elissa, by the Maker, where have you been?" He marched right up to her, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her to his side, away from Sten. She didn't even have time to respond before he had turned angrily to the warrior. "What are you trying pull?" He asked with more ferocity in his tone than Elissa had ever heard. "What did you do to her? If you hurt her in any way, I swear -"

Sten's face contorted with rage. "I have not done anything. She was accompanying me on a personal errand, by her own request. Perhaps you should ask more and accuse less." He looked back to Elissa. "Thank you, kadan. I will be ready in the morning to move on." Then he left them, with a last disgusted look at Alistair.

He wasn't the only one who was angry. Elissa pulled her arm out of the templar's grip furiously. "What in Andraste's name was that about?" She whispered dangerously to him.

"You tell me," he replied with just as much venom. "What were you thinking, wandering off with him in the middle of the night? Do you know how long you were gone? What was I supposed to think?"

"What did you think, Alistair?" Elissa asked, her temper and voice rising. "Please, enlighten me."

"I thought... I thought," Alistair began weakly. "That maybe you and he had... that he... Look, I don't know, alright? Just, suddenly you were gone and someone said he saw the two of you leave together and I just..." He hung his head. "I was worried, I'm sorry."

Elissa stared him for a moment, then sighed heavily. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his shoulder. He seemed surprised at first, then hugged her back silently. "You're daft," she murmured.

"I know," he replied just as quietly.

"Look, you don't have to worry about me," she continued. "I'm not going to... to..." She stopped, finding it extremely difficult to say what she meant. "I mean, I don't want -"

Alistair held her tighter against him and she realized he understood. They remained like that for a few minutes in silence, Elissa's heart pounding furiously the entire time. Had he really gotten jealous? What did it mean? She, of course, knew, but was too terrified to admit it to herself, not daring to hope. Finally, he broke the silence, whispering against her ear in such a way that sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm sorry. I was just very, very drunk and I jumped to conclusions. I don't really think that you would do... something... like that."

Elissa flushed and buried her face in his tunic. One of his hands found it's way to the back of her head and began stroking her hair softly, and she had the sudden urge to tell him what he already knew; what she was harboring inside her for fear of a rejection she knew wouldn't come. "Alistair, I -"

"Alistair?" A strange voice interrupted.

The two broke apart as though they had been struck by lightning, each with burning red faces. The owner of the voice was a knight in weather beaten armor, squinting at Alistair's face in the dim moonlight. "Alistair?" He said again. "Is that you?"

"Ser... Donall?" Alistair replied, just as confused as the knight.

"By the Maker, it is you!" The man stepped closer and held out his hand, which Alistair grasped firmly, grinning now. "How are you? I was certain you were dead!"

"Not yet, no thanks to Teryn Loghain," Alistair said bitterly.

The knight shook his head. "We heard the news. If Arl Eamon were well, he'd set Loghain straight soon enough."

Alistair's face fell at these words and Elissa sensed they were about to be given some terrible news. "...If he were well? What do you mean?"

The man called Ser Donall sighed, giving Alistair a sympathetic look. "The arl is stricken with an illness that threatens his life," he said, bowing his head. "We have found no cure, either natural or magical."

"When did this happen?"

"Not a fortnight ago, but he has declined quickly. No one knows the nature of the illness and even magic has done little to slow it's progress. Our only hope is a miracle. That is why I am here." He gestured toward the tower. "I was hoping to utilize the Circle's extensive library for any information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes, but the dockman turned me away."

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes?" Elissa asked suddenly, and Ser Donall turned to her, giving a slight bow before replying.

"Andraste's ashes are said to cure any illness," he supplied helpfully. "Every knight in Redcliffe has gone in search of the Urn, but I fear we are are chasing a fable. With each day, my hope diminishes." He paused. "I hope this does not sound too bold, for any friend of Alistair's is a friend of mine, but who, may I ask, are you?"

Elissa smiled, albeit a little embarrassedly, remembering how the knight came upon them. "I am Elissa Cousland, a Grey Warden, like Alistair."

"Cousland?" Donall repeated. "The teyrn's daughter?" Elissa nodded and he smiled in return. "I knew your father, he was a good man. Fair and forthright. It is an outrage what happened to him."

"Thank you for your kindness, Ser," Elissa replied quietly. "But for now, it is still too hard to think about it. Let us return to the Arl; I was hoping to meet him in fact."

"Why is that, if I may ask?"

Elissa glanced at Alistair who was unusually quiet and pale. He did not speak and so she continued, "We require his help in the Blight, and also we need supporters against Teyrn Loghain."

"I see," Donall said with a sigh. "The arl is a popular man, it's true. Teyrn Loghain, however, is a hero throughout Ferelden. Whatever the teyrn has done or not done, the arl remains ill, or worse. That is my primary concern."

A horrible thought struck Elissa then. "Do you think Loghain is involved wtih the arl's illness?" She asked delicately.

The knight shook his head. "The arl fell ill before the king died." He stopped, deep in thought. "But, what if Loghain planned that too? Ah, such thoughts do not sit well with me."

"Elissa, we should see what's happening in Redcliffe ourselves," Alistair spoke up finally, a definite note of distress in his tone. "I belive that now, more than ever."

Elissa looked up at him and she knew she would not be able to say no this time. She would never be able to forgive herself if the arl died and she had denied Alistair the opportunity to see him one last time. There was nothing for it; they were going to Redcliffe.


ELISSA'S COMPASSION

Elissa's most well known trait is one that many would consider a weakness for the leader of such a prestigious order. Yet, her companions against the Blight, even those who disagreed with any of her decisions (Sten and Morrigan) remained steadfastly at her side beacuse of this trait: compassion. Not just compassion, but caring, loyalty, and devotion to each of member of their fellowship. She would never say no when asked for a favor, even by Morrigan.

The team she had assembled was so varied in many different ways; had opposing opinions on many ways that she handled things, that one might wonder how she kept the peace between them all, and still managed to end the Blight effectively. Again, the answer is compassion. Her tender care for those she considered friends was enough to put the most heated of squabbles (usually between Alistair and Morrigan) aside for the good of the whole. She never asked anyone to return on the favors she granted them, and with that she earned back the loyalty she had paid in full.


Each companion disagreed with her at one point or another, this much is certain, but that she was able to see them through to the end speaks volumes about the person she truly was.

Elissa didn't know what to say to her companions the next morning when informing them of the sudden change of plans to head to Redcliffe. Sten thought it was because of him.

"I appreciate the thought, kadan," he said to her privately. "But there is no need. I said I would wait and I will honor my word."

"I know you would, Sten," she replied with a sigh. "It is not you, it's -" A series of loud thuds interrupted her as Alistair came down the stairs, into the common room, where the rest were waiting. It was hard to miss his abnormally grim expression and he soon had everyone's attention.

"Ready when you are," he said tonelessly to Elissa, ignoring everyone else, before heading out the door.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, as the attentions of the companions shifted to her.

"Him?" Sten asked darkly. "Surely you see the error in this plan."

"It's personal," Elissa replied. "And it's not like we won't be doing you a favor as well, so just drop -"

"Personal, eh?" Morrigan cut in. "I thought the pair of you were Grey Wardens? Not noble born brats who can just fritter time away on their ever changing whim."

"Don't, Morrigan, just don't." Elissa rubbed her forehead. "Yes, there is a personal reason to go, but it won't be a complete waste of time. We'll be getting troops there as well, so let's just... go, shall we?"

Redcliffe was four and a half days' walk from Circle Tower, barring any unforeseen circumstances, and each hour that passed was miserable. Alistair's dark countenance weighed heavily on Elissa. She longed to comfort him, to reassure him that all would be well, but every time she tried to speak with him, he was curt, if he answered at all. The best she could do was tell herself that he was not angry with her, only deeply worried about the arl and could spare no other thoughts. She sought refuge with Leliana and Wynne, who did not complain about the reason to go to Redcliffe, and were even sympathetic for the boy.

It was not until the night before they were due to arrive that Alistair came to her, and it was to drop a bomb shell.

She was sitting her tent, composing a letter to her friend Eriale by candle light when Alistair's face appeared in the flap. His expression was not that of the brooding man he had been earlier in the day, but instead he actually looked nervous. "Elissa, can we talk for a moment?"

Elissa was just relieved to hear something of his old self back in his voice. She smiled and set aside her letter, "Of course, let me just -" She stopped to push Argent to one side of the tent to make room and patted the canvas floor.

Alistair let himself in and folded himself up on the floor in front of her. It was several long moments before he spoke again. "Look, I need to tell you something I, ah, probably should have told you earlier."

A strong sense of foreboding overcame Elissa. She tried to smile, hoping she was wrong. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"I don't know. I doubt it," Alistair said truthfully and her heart sank. What could possibly go wrong now? There was another moment of silence as the templar gathered his thoughts. "I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in? The reason he did that was because..." He stopped again and swallowed hard, not wanting to continue. "Well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my... half-brother I suppose."

Elissa felt the air go out of her, like he had instead hit her with a sledgehammer. Maric's son? The king's son? She had been gallivanting about, flirting with, even falling for the prince of Ferelden? Her first instinct was to say, 'Why Maker, why?' but one look at his face and she knew that he hated telling her every bit as much as she hated hearing it. The seconds ticked by and she still had not said anything. He was looking anywhere but her, his face draining of what little color it had left as he waited for her response. Finally she forced herself to smile and said, "So... you're not just a bastard, but a royal bastard?"

Alistair let out a relieved laugh and Elissa inwardly blessed the return of his smile. "Yes!" He exclaimed. "I guess it does at that. I should use that line more often." He chuckled to himself, his air considerably lighter than when he first came in. After a moment his face turned serious again, keen to get everything off his chest. "I would have told you," he said quietly. "But... it never meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret. I've... never talked about this with anyone. Everyone who knew either resented for me or coddled me." He looked at her directly. "You remember the way Duncan treated me at Ostagar, this is why. He kept me away from the fighting on purpose." He took one of her hands between both of his own, locking his gaze onto her. "I didn't want you to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry."

She wanted to pull her hand away from his, but didn't have the heart. It still felt wonderful to touch him, to be touched in this way. She felt sick to her stomach just thinking that. Presently she had to respond again and it took her just as long as the first time. "I think I understand."

He sighed with relief, his easy smile in place. "Oh good, I'm so glad. It's not like I got special treatment for it, anyhow. Anyway, that's it. That's what I had to tell you. I thought you should know."

"Why tell me then?" Elissa asked quickly and with more emotion in her voice than she meant to let slip. Alistair looked shocked and she struggled to recover. "Why do I need to know?"

"Because... it will probably come up," he replied. "I didn't want to walk into Redcliffe without you knowing the truth, that would just be... awkward. Look," he paused, squeezing her hand, probably to get her to look at him again. "I have no illusions about my status. It's always been made very clear that I am a commoner and now a Grey Warden, and in no way in line for the throne. And that's fine by me. No, if there's an heir to be found , it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly very popular with the people. Though... if he's really as sick as we've heard..." He paled again and shook his head. "No, I don't want to think about that, I really don't."

For the first time since his confession, Elissa felt a pang of sympathy for him. She almost leaned in to hug him, but that sick feeling in her stomach stopped her. She settled for giving him a reassuring look, to which he smiled. "There you have it," he said by way of wrapping up. "Can we just forget about it and we'll pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"That's not really what you think, is it?" Elissa asked quietly and for the second time, her emotion got the better of her.

This time, Alistair brushed back a stray strand of blonde hair off her forehead and let his hand rest on her cheek. "No," he admitted. "What I really think is that I was lucky enough to survive with you." He smiled at her then rose to leave. He had almost disappeared from view when Elissa found her voice.

"Alistair?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, ducking his head through the flap again. "Yes?"

Elissa swallowed hard. Every moment she was with him was straining her. "Could you do me a favor?"

He smiled at her. "Anything."

"Would you mind taking my watch tonight? I - er - think that chicken we had for dinner isn't agreeing with me."

Alistair winced sympathetically. "Of course, you get some rest and feel better. For me?" He smiled, winked, and left again, this time for good.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Elissa flopped over onto her bedroll, unbidden tears starting to flow. She knew she was being ridiculous. Obviously Alistair didn't want anything to change between them; he regarded his birthright as a dirty secret that should be kept hidden at all cost. Of course, he was right. Look at how she was reacting. Still, she couldn't bring herself to just accept it. No matter what he had said about not being in line for the throne, she thought otherwise. He obviously didn't have much experience with the Ferelden nobility. They would never let a low level arl of common birth take the crown.

The very thought wracked more tears from her. She blessed the Maker for Ser Donall's interruption last night. She shuddered to think the repercussions if she had actually told the prince she had feelings for him. Worse still, there was no way she could tell him now without arousing suspicion that she was attracted to his birthright.

Outside, she could hear light conversation around the campfire. He was telling everyone else. He had waited until she knew first.

Presently, Argent licked his mistress's face affectionately and Elissa wrapped an arm around his neck, hugging him to her. "Is it even possible to be with him now," she whispered to herself. "The crown would tear us apart. Why even try?" Her heart ached for him. She thought with growing nausea the way they had held each other outside Circle Tower. Why did he do such a thing? Didn't he know what was bound to happen, that they would end up separated in the end?

It took a long time, but after several hours of crying, and with a splitting headache, Elissa reached her senses. Alistair cared about her, that much was obvious. He was convinced that his parentage wouldn't matter and so he attached himself to her. And in the end, if the forces at work tried to separate them, she would fight to the death to remain with him. She refused to let a king's indiscretion take her away from the man she -

She dare not finish the thought. It would be hard, but she knew she had to move on from this. Go about life normal, as if she didn't know. She couldn't let this affect her, especially now, when Alistair needed her support more than ever. She sat straight up suddenly, wondering what time it was. She had long since heard the tell tale signs of everyone getting ready to sleep, or otherwise prepare for their watch, but how long ago was that? She crawled to the flap of her tent and peeked outside. Some distance away was the soft glow of the watch fire and Alistair's hunched figure before it, his back to her.

It was a chilly night, but she didn't care. She tiptoed outside, cautiously approaching the templar. When she reached him, she touched his shoulder wordlessly, and he jumped but smiled when he saw her. "Hey you," he said. "Feeling better?"

Elissa returned his smile with surprising ease and she nodded. "Yes, much. Can I keep you company?"

"Please, please do. I swear I don't know why we bother keeping watch when we're on the highway like this. Besides, we'd hear darkspawn from a mile away. They're not exactly the stealthiest bunch." He grinned and patted the earth next to him, indicating for her to sit.

Instead she dropped her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head on his broad back. He seemed surprised at this random display of affection, but laid one of his hands atop hers. "What did I do to deserve this?" He asked jokingly.

Elissa didn't reply, only held him tighter. They'll never take you away from me, she thought to herself. Not the nobles, not the darkspawn, no one.