Chapter Nine: Earning Trust

I woke several hours later, Tomas still awake and still holding me. Dawn had just begun, and the sky was beautiful in pinks and oranges.

"No sleep again? You be careful, ser, or I will start shouting at you in front of the entire group." He smirked. I kissed his cheek again, impulsively. "You'd have made a wonderful father, just for the record."

Tomas actually blushed. We both worked our way to our feet, and I followed him back to the camp. He crept over to the fire and curled up quietly to have a nap. I nodded to Aedan, who was apparently on watch. He gave Tomas a pointed look, then looked back at me and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. I shook my head, miming sleep. He made the same gesture at Theron, and I grimaced, shaking again. He turned to look at Alistair's sleeping form, instead, and then raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Great. I met the guy five minutes ago and he can bloody tell I'm attracted to Alistair. Note to self - learn to be a better actor. I shrugged, refusing to confirm or deny. I wasn't going to admit to anything. I turned away to hide my blush.

Theron was sitting at the edge of camp, awake, refusing to make eye contact with me. I walked over and sat, facing him. I waited for a moment to see if he would look at me, but he refused. I opened my mouth to apologise, but he spoke first.

"So. Duncan, huh?"

I was speechless. So not where I expected this conversation to go.

"I guess I get it. I hear lots of women like older men. And, you know, he's a Grey Warden, and it's so...romantic." He put a strange emphasis on the last word.

"Your Majesty..."

"Don't, Sierra. Please. Just for five minutes, can't it be just Cailan?"

"Just Cailan, then. It's not like that."

"What is it like, then? I have so much more to give you, you know. Anything you want, you'd just have to ask. What does he have to offer that I don't?" If I couldn't hear the hurt in his voice, I'd have laughed. 'Just Cailan' my ass.

"So you've decided then that I am a whore? That I sell my body for things, or for power? That I should use sound, logical, business sense to decide who I will be with? With you, I'd have access to money, be able to influence the running of the country, so I should pick you instead of someone else? I feel so very...valuable, right now." I kept my voice quiet. One screaming fit per twenty-four hour period only. Besides, I knew that he was just being a hurt child, and that he hadn't thought through the implications of what he was saying. I could be patient with that for a little bit.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I do know it, but do you? Are you sure? I do know what this is for you. I'm an unknown. I'm mysterious, a damsel in distress. And you've probably never been told no by a woman in your life. You are fascinated by the mystery, but we both know this isn't love, 'Just Cailan'. We've only known each other for four days!

"And even if it were, try to think about this from my point of view for a moment. You're married. So maybe you put aside Anora, and maybe you don't. But even if you do, I'm not Queen material. I don't have the skills, don't have the pedigree. I'll shout at all the nobles in the Landsmeet and offend them all completely. I don't even know if I'll stick around - maybe I just disappear for good, next time. There is no way that you could ever have me as your Queen.

"So I'd have to be your mistress. And then what? Live in the palace? Anora would have my head. So I'd get a room somewhere, and have to sneak in to the palace to see you. Wait weeks between visits when you're busy with affairs of state. And do what, while I'm waiting? I don't exactly knit. So I spend all my time waiting for word that I can sneak in five minutes with you, risk getting caught and you being forced to end it with me, or being manipulated and used by political rivals in various schemes, or getting kidnapped for ransom. And then, one day, I get pregnant. And then I'm raising a royal bastard, torn between the fear that you'll love your legitimate children more - or that you won't and my children become pawns in someone's political game. And some day, maybe something like Ostagar happens, and you and whatever legitimate heirs you have die, and my poor kid is being put on the throne against his will just to keep the great Calenhad bloodline going.

"What, exactly, can you offer me, 'Just Cailan'? You can't even offer me fidelity."

Cailan stared at me for a moment, his face red. "Wow. You really must hate me."

I reached out and touched his cheek, gently. "I don't, Cailan. I actually like you, most of the time. You're handsome, you're funny, and you're caring. I think if you tame some of your impulses, you could be a truly amazing leader. I will do anything I can to help you get back on your throne, to help you find happiness. But you won't find happiness with me. I'm just not capable of giving you that.

"For the record, no, not with Duncan either. He's an adoptive father for me. I'm not bedding him, nor will I ever. I promise."

"You spent the night alone in the woods..."

"He sat watch, and I cried on his shoulder. That's it. I swear. Armour makes a better pillow than you might think."

He seemed to accept that, and some of the unhappiness on his face eased.

"So do you think...could we be friends, instead? Or maybe, could I be like an honorary sister? I promise to always see you as 'Just Cailan', even when protocol dictates I don't say it out loud, and you promise to keep that sense of humour going, and we both have someone to turn to when we just need to talk or whatever? Could we do that?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I'd like that. I've never had a sister."

"Cailan, about last night..."

"You were right. About everything."

"I wasn't. Some of it, sure, but...you didn't ask for any of this either, and you're trying to put up with an intolerable situation. I was angry, and well, scared." I ran a somewhat shaky hand through my hair. "I need you to survive, Cailan. I've seen what happens if you don't. Promise me you'll listen to Duncan, let him keep you safe? If you promise to listen to him, I promise never to shout at you again. In public, at least."

"I can live with that. I'd hate to have to use that rack after all." I giggled, and it felt good to laugh. He took on a mischievous expression. "So, if you're my sister, now, does that mean I can do this?" Cailan grabbed me in a sudden headlock, and then used his knuckles to mess up my hair and rub my scalp. I squealed, reaching down and finding a small handful of mud, turning to smear it on his face when he let me go. He roared, and I jumped up, running away before he could get me back. He chased me, and we woke the rest of the camp laughing as Prince joined the game, jumping and barking as I hid and he tried to catch me.

Alistair sat up, looking grumpy, complaining loudly. "Maker's ass, couldn't you make up a little bit later in the day?"

I finally collapsed down by the packs, digging through one to find a small hunk of cheese I'd noticed at supper last night. After I handed it over, Alistair forgave me, too. It's going to be a good day.

Once everyone was awake and fed, we all gathered near the fire to plan. Morrigan was even present, to my surprise. She'd spent the night as a bird, watching but not participating. It seemed...lonely. I feel sorry for Morrigan? Huh. Everyone wanted time to talk to me one on one, to test my assertions that I knew them, to ask about the future. And I had no desire to go back to Lothering, so that worked for me.

We needed more supplies if we were going to be traveling, and we needed time to plan where to go first. I knew that plan wouldn't be cemented until everyone had convinced themselves that I knew as much as I said I did. I also knew we had one more companion in town to pick up before we left, and had to hope to find Bodahn and Sandal despite the changing events.

Since Theron, Tomas, and Morrigan would probably be better left outside of town in case they were recognised, we decided that I would spend a bit of time talking to Aedan, Alistair, and Leliana, then they would head into town and I would remain with the others. So while everyone else sat patching armour, cleaning weapons, or just trying to relax, I found myself wandering out into the woods with Aedan and Prince beside me.

First he asked me to tell him what I knew about him. I reminded him that I had seen the events through his eyes, so didn't really get the opportunity to know his thoughts or learn his secrets like I did everyone else. But then I recounted all that I could remember of the human noble origin. We talked about Mother Mallol, and the scholar Aldous; meeting Duncan and being informed that Aedan wouldn't be accompanying the army. His father's nickname for him - 'pup'. Fighting giant rats with Prince and Ser Gilmore in the pantry. Aedan got an interesting look on his face when I mentioned Roderick - Rory, apparently, for short - Gilmore, but I couldn't read it. Then running into Lady Landra and her son. Darren? Something like that. Saying goodbye to Fergus, and finally going to bed, only to be woken by fighting. Eleanor in armour, realising the men attacking were Howe's men. Finding Orianna and little Oren, even Lady Landra. Fighting through to Ser Gilmore, and leaving him to die trying to hold the gates while Aedan and Eleanor ran in search of Bryce. Finding Bryce in the pantry, dying, Duncan confirming he wouldn't survive trying to flee. Duncan's agreement with Bryce that Aedan join the Grey Wardens, and Eleanor deciding to stay behind and defend their retreat.

Aedan broke down and cried, and I wrapped my arms around him. I knew this was likely his first chance to mourn them. I held him, slowly sinking to the ground while he sobbed.

"I left them. I should have stayed. I should have fought. Mother, and Father, Rory...I just walked away and left them!"

I stroked his short dark hair, feeling him shake as he sobbed. I whispered the platitudes I knew wouldn't help, but I tried anyway. When he finally looked up, I wiped his tears with my sleeve and he kissed my cheek.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Don't tell them what? That you're human? I think they believe you about that, even if they don't all believe me."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So...what becomes of Highever, now that the last Cousland had to renounce my claim to the title?"

"Oh, no! Aedan, I am such an idiot. I completely forgot, you don't know. You're not the last Cousland. Fergus is alive. He was scouting in the Wilds, and I think, maybe got injured, but...actually, I don't know the details, but he survived. In the...performance, he made it to Denerim after the Archdemon was defeated, and became Teyrn of Highever."

"Truly? Maker, you don't know how happy I am to hear that!"

"Maybe we can try to find him sooner, since we know. Not that I have any idea where he is, or anything. If I end up disappearing again, I'll try to find out."

Then we talked about Ostagar - the Wilds trip, the Joining, Daveth and Ser Jory. The fight to reach the top of the tower of Ishal. The ogre. Then being overrun by darkspawn and waking up in Flemeth's hut. Thinking, at least for a while, that he and Alistair were alone against the Blight.

We talked a bit about his joining the Grey Wardens. I wondered if he was bitter to be forced to join. It turned out he'd been chafing at the bit for a while wanting to get out of the castle, and had argued with his father over not being allowed to join the Grey Wardens, especially after learning that Ser Gilmore was being recruited. I made a mental note to learn more about Ser Gilmore eventually. Aedan was devastated that his family had been murdered, of course, but felt gratitude, if anything, to Duncan for recruiting him. Even more so once I told him about Fergus. I was glad - we didn't need a reluctant hero, constantly fighting with Duncan.

Talking to Aedan was...easy. I wasn't awkward, like I was around Alistair. Not that Aedan wasn't good looking, but I just couldn't see him like that. He wasn't looking at me like that, the way Theron did, either. It was like we had been friends forever. By the time we got back to the camp, we were teasing each other and laughing. I could still see the sorrow in his eyes, but it seemed less heavy, somehow. Maybe it was just knowing there was one less soul to haunt him.

Once in camp, Leliana grabbed me and dragged me off into the woods also. I gave Alistair an apologetic smile as I was pulled away. She lead me deeper into the woods than Aedan had, and spent a few minutes scouting around before deciding we were truly alone. I didn't see the black bird that was Morrigan, so I figured we were safe.

"You might have warned me."

"Uh...what?"

"The King of Ferelden?"

"Uh, well. Yeah. I wasn't allowed to talk about that. I'm sure you can understand why."

"You said you trust all of us. Did you include me in that by mistake?"

"No, Leliana. In fact, I probably trust you more than most. But it wasn't my secret to tell."

"That's no excuse."

"So you'd agree that it would be fair for me to inform the group that you are a bard, you started out as a spy in Orlais, and that Marjolaine, your mentor and ex-lover, is currently in Denerim, arranging to ambush us with the intent of getting you killed, just because I trust them? Leliana. I trust you. They don't, yet. They barely trust me. And spilling secrets isn't going to improve that situation." She stared at me for a moment, then looked away, face flushing slightly.

"It would seem that again, you're the rational one in this little group. However did we manage, in the performance you described, without you to make us see sense?"

"Aedan. He's clever."

"Hmm. So...you know about Marjolaine?"

"Yes. I know she trained you, used you, and then betrayed you. You ran away to the Chantry to get away from that life. But she will come after you, when you leave the Chantry. She'll think this was some sort of strategy."

"And does she kill me?"

"No. But she won't stop until you make her, Leliana. At home, I'm sort of a pacifist. I don't know how to fight. It feels really strange to say this, but...when you get the chance, I urge you not to show mercy. You'll regret it."

"I see."

"So will you come with us, Leliana? Have I convinced you?"

"I haven't decided yet. I need to think, to pray. I will, however, help your Aedan and Alistair in Lothering, at the very least."

"Thank you." I repressed the urge to hug her. "Now, next time I disappear, if you're still with us...if I lend you a pair of scissors, will you fix Theron's and Tomas' hair?"

"You do know how to tempt a girl!" We laughed and headed back to camp. Tomas was talking to Aedan, and Alistair sat looking awkward as Theron talked at him. Morrigan was nowhere to be seen. I rescued Alistair, giving Theron a smile.

Alistair and I wandered through the now familiar woods, until he found us a fallen log to sit on. He straddled it, facing me, and I sat, self-consciously, while he studied me.

"For what it's worth, I believe you. I'm not going to test you."

I was unexpectedly thrilled, and had to fight the goofy smile that wanted to break out on my face. "Why?"

He thought about that for a bit. "Duncan trusts you."

"Don't. Don't just trust me because he does. I need you to, for yourself. Please."

"It's not just that. It's also...I saw the battlefield, from the top of the tower, right before I blacked out. I knew there was no way for anyone to survive that. But somehow, you saved Duncan and Cailan. To even have found them on the battlefield, you must have known the details of what would happen to them beforehand. And any idiot can see you're not from around here. You have strange mannerisms, strange clothes. If it wasn't for you, I'd be alone. I don't want to combat the Blight alone. I'm..."

I interrupted him. "I know. Not a leader. If everyone let you lead, we'd all end up lost somewhere, and you'd discover you didn't have any pants."

"Hey! Just 'cause you're some mysteriously omnipotent being from another world doesn't mean you get to steal my lines!"

"I sincerely apologise. I can't promise not to do it ever again, though. You've got some funny lines!"

He went to smack me playfully, and I pretended to cower.

"Not the face! Not the face!" He looked shocked for a second, and then cracked up once he confirmed I was joking.

"So. Thank you for believing in me, but...you still need to test me. I know Tomas is going to question everyone later to see if I knew all their secrets. You need to know what I know."

He looked uncomfortable. I took pity on him.

"Let me start. You are Alistair Theirin. Bastard son of King Maric Theirin. Raised by Arl Eamon in Redcliffe, and everyone thought you were his bastard. He married Isolde, an Orlesian woman with a really annoying voice, who made your life miserable until she convinced him to send you off to the Chantry to train as a templar at about age ten. He always made sure you were aware that you had no claim to the throne, made you feel like you were nobody. When he sent you to the Chantry, you got angry and threw your mother's amulet at the wall, where it smashed. He tried to visit you at the Chantry, but you refused to see him, and still feel guilty about that. You hated the Chantry, although you found that the discipline part of the training was actually ok. You attended one Harrowing, and the mage became an abomination, and you watched someone kill her. You were conscripted by Duncan before you took your vows, so you never got addicted to Lyrium. One of your fellow recruits died during your Joining.

"You tell everyone you were raised by wild dogs from the Anderfels who can fly and are devout Andrastians, and you always crack jokes to avoid discussing anything personal. You like figurines, and cheese. You think swooping is bad. You're unreasonably afraid of being turned into a toad by Morrigan or her mother. You probably called Morrigan a sneaky witch thief when you met her in the Wilds." I sat back and grinned.

Alistair just stared at me until I blushed and looked away. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, I, uh, think that pretty much covers it."

"Then let me tell you some things you don't know. For example, Eamon kept your mother's locket, and had it repaired. It's in his desk in Redcliffe Castle. You should also know that your father, Maric, actually loved you very much. He made a promise to your mother, whom he also loved, to keep you away from court, because she knew he hated being the king and she didn't want all your choices taken away like that. That's why he sent you to Redcliffe, though I doubt he knew how you'd be treated there. Your mother wasn't a servant in Redcliffe, she was a Grey Warden. And I think she might still be alive. The half-sister you thought you had, actually isn't. They picked the name of a convenient servant who had died in childbirth and told you she was your mother, making Goldanna your half-sister. They lied.

"In the, uh, performance, during this Blight, it was just you and Aedan. And despite your insistence that you couldn't lead, and that you were a nobody, you always kept Aedan on the high road, even when the temptation to cut corners and use the ends to justify the means was really strong. You were the backbone of the group, the one everyone relied on, and you didn't even know it.

"I also know that if Theron had died, Eamon would put you forward as the rightful heir to the throne. I know you wouldn't have wanted to do it, that you hated the very thought of it. But I also know that you actually are a much better leader, and a much better man than you believe yourself to be. You could become an amazing King, ruling Ferelden better than Cailan or Maric ever did. I don't want that for you - I think you should have the choice of what to do with your life, but you should know. You are capable of much more than you think possible."

Embarrassed at my appalling lack of subtlety, afraid that Alistair would look up and see the - inappropriate, Sierra - I reached over and squeezed his hand, then stood up and walked away before he could respond.

Back at camp, I sat down beside Tomas, leaning against him for a brief moment, trying to recapture the feeling of safety I'd had the night before. He smiled at me, his eyes knowing, and I cursed my bad acting skills again.

After a few minutes Alistair came back into camp, and I avoided making eye contact. Everyone gathered in the usual circle around the fire, including Morrigan, to discuss plans briefly before the three went into town. We discussed what supplies they should try to buy, everyone adding ideas, including more backpacks, more water skins, poultices, tents, blankets or bedrolls, and commoner clothes for me. Leliana and I compared sizes, briefly, and she thought she'd be able to help pick out some clothes that at least would be close to fitting.

"There's someone in town that you need to talk to, also. He needs to come with us. It's going to take a bit of work to get it figured out, but I'm hoping we can impose on Leliana to intercede on our behalf with the Revered Mother."

The bard looked at me, puzzled, but I watched as she figured it out. She tried to hide a somewhat pleased half-smile. "You mean to recruit the Qunari." I nodded.

"Aedan and Alistair should speak with him first, I think, but unless they have some major objection, then yes."

"Are you quite certain he can be trusted?" I knew what she was asking me. Did I really want a murderer joining our party?

"I am. He's a strange one, I'll give you that, but if they can secure his word, he will never break it."

Tomas watched the exchange, confusion building. I debated, but decided hiding the truth would cost me some of my hard-earned trust. I'd just have to hope they saw the reasoning behind it.

"There's a Qunari in a cage outside Lothering. He murdered a family in a fit of, well, temporary insanity. There was a reason for it, but not one that makes sense to anyone but a Qunari. He was so ashamed that he allowed himself to be captured and caged. He could escape, if he tried, but he won't, because he thinks that a gruesome death at the hands of the darkspawn will be his atonement. If offered a chance for redemption, and if he gives his word to help defend against the Blight, he'll be very handy to have around." I saw a couple of people mouth the word 'handy', and blushed. "He's a pretty amazing warrior. He isn't a danger to any of us, and while I don't think any of us will consider him a friend, he will be helpful. If Leliana can convince the Revered Mother to let him out, that is."

"I can. I will. I think that's an admirable idea. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"How do we know he won't murder us in our sleep?" I turned to Alistair.

"I'd say 'trust me', but that feels a little disingenuous right now. That's why I want you and Aedan to talk to him first. If you're not convinced, don't let him out. But let me just add this - he's been in that cage for three weeks without food or water. He's still alive. And he could have left at any time if he decided to. But the decision is up to you guys."

Leliana took the lead walking to Lothering, with Prince trotting at her side. Aedan and Alistair were following along behind. Probably staring at Leliana's ass. I saw Theron and Tomas both shooting longing glances at them, and thought perhaps I'd accidentally voiced my thought out loud. I realised, though, that they were both probably just sick of being stuck in camp. Boohoo. I sighed and scratched my head, pulling my hair out of the complicated 'do it had been in since pretending to be a noblewoman yesterday. I felt sweaty and sticky, and my hair was hanging together in clumps. I had an idea.

"Hey, Morrigan?" The witch still sat by the fire, everyone having ignored her. Again. She looked up, her expression hard to read. "I'm desperate to wash up. I am going to go down to the stream. Care to accompany me? We can talk on the way." She looked skeptical, so I added bait. "I've got soap." Her eyes lit up, and she practically sprang up to grab her pack and follow me.

I turned to Theron and Tomas, who were watching the witch with wary expressions. "Now, you two be good boys and stay here, yes? I'd hate for you to be accidentally turned into a toad for spying on us, brother." I ruffled Theron's hair, and he squawked indignantly. Morrigan laughed and followed me into the woods.

By unspoken agreement, we found the stream and washed up first. The water was cold, but I didn't care. I stripped and laid down in the middle of the stream. Morrigan stared at me, averting her eyes when she saw me noticing. She crouched by the side of the stream and surreptitiously washed without baring anything. Seriously? We're both girls. Whatever. I'm not lessening my enjoyment of this because of modesty. I soaped myself off, sitting up to scrub my hair with the bar. I knew it would make it impossibly tangled, but I didn't care. I'd take clean and messy over dirty any day.

Finally satisfied, I stood, shivering, and it occurred to me I didn't have a towel. I briefly wondered if there was a way to bring my huge terrycloth bath set from home next time I went back. I shook off, sort of like Prince, and pulled my clean, now dry panties from my pack, slipping into them and then my clothes while still damp. I grumbled, determined to at least bring a spare bra and an extra t-shirt next time. I washed the dirty panties, tucking them away, and finally felt human again, if cold. I put my jacket back on, wishing I'd thought to bring my cloak. I huddled into a ball and pulled out my comb, starting to work out the tangles while I watched Morrigan bend over and somehow wash her own hair without getting her clothes wet. She finished without tangles in her own long black hair. Bitch.

Seeing me huddling, still shivering, she rolled her eyes. "'Tis a good thing you aren't from here. I can only assume you would not have survived long in this world." She turned, spying a nearby boulder, and muttered something under her breath, finally waving her hand in its general direction. A streak of fire flashed from her fingers, splattering against the rock. "There. I suppose the others would be much more difficult to manage if I let you freeze to death."

I smiled brilliantly at her and scrambled to my feet, approaching the boulder. The heat rolled off it in waves, and I held my hands out, luxuriating in feeling warm. I cleared a small space, close enough to be warm but far enough not to get burnt. Morrigan and I both sank down onto the ground, backs to the radiant stone, letting our damp hair dry.

I broke the silence first. "So. We should talk."

"We should." I sat, still pulling snarls out of my hair, waiting for her to begin testing me.

"Are you going to ask me questions, then?"

"Indeed not!"

"Uh...why not?"

"A skilled charlatan can determine the answers based on the questions asked. For it to be a true test, you must also provide the questions."

"Uh, okay. Um, well, let me see. You were raised in the Wilds by Flemeth, who is your mother. Or at least, she raised you; I'm not sure if she's blood related. She is a powerful sorceress, a shapechanger who can take on the form of a dragon. She is an abomination, having made a deal with a demon to keep her alive, or so the story goes. She liked to use you as bait for templars who got too close when you were a child. You learned shapechanging from her, and as I recall, can assume the form of a giant spider, or I think a bear...and apparently a bird, from what I saw earlier.

"You once stole a mirror from a noblewoman you encountered in the Wilds. When Flemeth discovered it, she smashed it to pieces. You'd give almost anything to get your hands on Flemeth's grimoire. And the reason Flemeth sent you with the Grey Wardens, the reason I think she even saved them, was so that you could perform a blood magic ritual with one of them, before the final battle, impregnating you. It would cause the Archdemon's essence to be drawn into the body of your unborn child, to be reborn as an untainted Old God, coincidentally saving the life of the Grey Warden who strikes the killing blow.

"You hate Circle mages, believing that they have enslaved themselves willingly, and have nothing but contempt for the Chantry. You like pretty jewelry, though you will never admit it. You act like you hate Alistair and think he's stupid, but I don't actually think that's true. I think you just enjoy baiting him."

"I do enjoy baiting him, 'tis true, but his lack of intelligence isn't in question, as far as I can tell." I rolled my eyes, and Morrigan actually appeared to smile.

"So. How did I do? Am I a charlatan? A Fade spirit? Just plain crazy? What do you think?"

"You definitely know things that you should have no way of knowing, so while I cannot fathom how you could possibly be what you claim, I cannot offer another explanation."

"I'm going to take that as acceptance, I think."

"For now." Morrigan paused. "So...may I ask what you plan to do with your information?"

"You're wondering if I will prevent you from performing the ritual with Aedan or Alistair?"

"I am."

"I won't. I don't think it's my decision to make, anyway. However, with, uh, Tomas around, I think you will have a much harder time getting agreement."

"Foolish. Why would he not accept such a small sacrifice to preserve his own life?"

Aha. She doesn't know everything about Wardens. Interesting. "All I will say is that sometimes, there are worse things than death, for a Grey Warden." Morrigan scoffed, but seemed to realise she would get no more out of me on the subject.

Once both of us had dry hair, we returned to camp. Well, I did. Morrigan came partway, and then hesitated.

"You're going to change shape and spend the rest of the day watching us in animal form, aren't you?"

"I...prefer that, yes."

"Just...know that you are welcome, if you decide to join us."

Morrigan stared at me, an unfathomable expression on her face. "I will keep that in mind."

Leaving her to her privacy, I went back to camp alone.


A/N:

As usual, thanks to Kira Tamarion, Rhia474, and BookWyrm76 for their invaluable help as editors. I do not own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Oh, by the way: this story can also be found on Live Journal and AO3 under the same user name, if anyone's wondering.

Reviews:

I'm so pleased that some of the authors I read ad enjoy are reading this. You know who you are. Thank you!

Judy: You don't ask questions, but you always review and I love you for it. Thanks!

Clafount: Prince was the name of my former piano teacher's Doberman. And while Mabari look nothing like Doberman, their attitude is similar, at least to that particular one. It just fits. So yeah...good pick :)

RogueKittieKat: I love dialog. Too much, probably, at least according to any professional editors, but...I can't help it. Character development without dialog is like Christmas without Santa. What's the point? I'm a bit afraid to read the comics, to be honest, before I finish this - I have some plans, and I'm afraid it will mess with them. I might take you up on them eventually.