Chapter IX

Morrigan groaned, sitting up as she reached for her aching head. She found herself in a room she wasn't familiar with, the memories slowly coming back to her. She cursed the demon she fought in the kid's dream, but felt proud to have been able to defeat it with only her skills and wit to help her. The sound of an opening door drew her attention, and she turned her head to see Leliana walk in.

"I'm glad to see you have awakened." She smiled, bringing in a small tray with water, grapes and bread. "I thought perhaps you would soon, so I took the liberty of fetching you something to eat. I imagine you are hungry now, no?"

She gave Leliana an awkward look, but slowly nodded, taking the tray from her.

"My thanks."

The former sister smiled. "You gave us all a scare. It appears Wynne was right however, you seem to be doing well."

"'Twas nothing. Entering the Fade in such a way is draining." She took a sip of water. "Where are the others?"

"Alistair came by to tell us we would be spending the night here and head to Denerim in the morning. He also said Everil had gone to the village to run an errand, and that Sten and her hound were likely with her."

"She must be helping the Qunari find his sword." Morrigan thought to herself, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Also Wynne will be joining us from now on."

"That insufferable hag from the Circle?" She lifted her brows.

"Uh…Yes." Leliana replied with an awkward expression. "She came to check on you earlier, then said she would be in one of the rooms resting."

"I see." She lazily ate another grape, still groggy from sleep. Leliana watched her in silence, her stare slightly unnerving her.

"I'm fine now. There is no need for you to be here any longer." She said coolly, her gaze upon her food.

"Oh, sorry." The other woman shifted, walking to the door. "I uh…will be in the room next door if you need anything."

Morrigan didn't answer, sighing with relief upon hearing the door close. She placed the tray down on the bed and swung her legs over the edge, walking up to her bag. She rummaged through it, gingerly pulling out the leather-bound book. She ran her finger over the tree pattern on the cover, a small smirk tugging at her purple lips.

Now alone, she could begin discovering her mother's secrets.

Soon night fell, shrouding everything in darkness. Torches and candles lined the halls, their light flickering against the walls. Sten had picked a room to sleep in, leaving her to check on Morrigan with her dog. She was only able to exchange a few words with the witch before they were both kicked out of her room, told to leave as she had much work to do and didn't want interruptions.

With a roll of her eyes she let her be, knowing she was likely using the downtime to read her mother's grimoir.

"So long as she's alright…" She uttered to herself.

Everil crossed the hallway to her chosen room and stepped inside, closing the door before proceeding to drop her weapons off by the bed. It was dark, but the moon shone bright enough through the window to allow her to see some of the space within. It was simple room with a single bed and a desk with a small candle lit upon it. She walked up to the nightstand, lighting the lamp resting on it and illuminating the rest of the room. She slid off her bag, also depositing it by her bed before she let herself fall back upon the soft mattress, letting out a sigh as her body began to cave in to exhaustion.

It had been a long couple of days of travel and fighting, and there were no doubt similar days waiting for them ahead. As she stared up at the ceiling she began to think about what they had accomplished this far. The fate of the world rested upon their shoulders, and they were still miles away from having what they needed to put a stop to the Blight.

Lothering then came to mind.

It was almost overwhelming to know that other villages may have already fallen prey to the darkspawn. She wondered just how much time they truly had before the taint enveloped all of Ferelden.

"Maker... I hope we can do this." She murmured, staring at the ceiling.

A soft knock on the door made her rise up with a groan, her tired muscles protesting her action. She then stood, walking up to open the door.

"Hey, you are back." Alistair smiled down at her.

She let out a chuckle. "Yes, I just got here. Were you waiting expectantly for my return?"

"Maybe a little. I told one of the few remaining servants to let me know when you came back to the castle. Grey Warden business." He said with a grin. "May I come in? There's something I have to talk to you about."

"Of course." She stepped into her room as he followed, closing the door behind him. "I thought you were still with Bann Teagan. Whatever it was he wanted to say to you sounded important."

"He just wanted to discuss Ferelden's situation with me. There's a civil war raging up in the Bannorn." He told her with a sigh. "Some of the nobles want to force Loghain off the throne. Which I think is a good thing, but it may make our efforts against the Blight a little more difficult. If that's even possible."

"Oh…well we knew there was a possibility of war breaking out after what happened in Ostagar. We will just have to avoid the conflict as much as we can." She folded her arms, lifting a brow. "So is there a reason why I couldn't join in the conversation?"

"Teagan didn't know you knew who my father was, so he was being reserved. He brought up the throne thing… but I shut him out as soon as I could." He shuddered and quickly attempted to change the subject, not wanting to elaborate further. "At any rate! That's not the only thing I wanted to tell you. I… wanted to thank you."

She tilted her head. "What for?"

"For saving the Arl's family. You could have taken the easy way out and killed Connor, but you chose not to."

"I was going to at one point, remember?" A corner of her lip went up, her tone hinted with guilt.

"But you didn't, and it was thanks to that the Arl won't have more death to grieve over when he wakes up." He gave her a reassuring smile. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that this felt personal. I owe the Arl a lot and saving his wife and son feels like a first step to repaying him for everything he's done for me."

"I understand. But there is no need to thank me, you played a hand in it too." She said with kindness in her eyes.

"I suppose… It does feel good to finally be able to save something after having seen so many people die the last couple of days. We have to celebrate the small victories, right?"

"Right." She smiled up at him.

"Anyway... that's all I wanted to say." He muttered, suddenly feeling nervous under her stare. "I should let you get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

But before he could open the door she spoke.

"Wait..." She said quietly. "I was actually hoping you would stop by. I have something I want to give you."

He gave her a quizzical look, his heart rate automatically rising at her words. He saw her walk to her bag, taking something from one of the pockets. She then approached him with it, a small smile upon her lips.

"Your hand." She said as she reached out to him with an open hand.

Alistair awkwardly placed his hand on hers and she turned it over to look at his open palm. She placed her fist upon it and then opened her fingers, the silver chain flowing out from her hand to his. When she pulled her hand away, the pendant of a necklace stared back at him, the jewel at the center glimmering with the flickering light of the candles in the room.

His eyes widened, immediately recognizing its shape. "This is…"

She smiled warmly. "Yes. It is your mother's amulet."

"I... I thought this had been lost forever..." He muttered incredulously. "Why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?"

"It was in the Arl's room, by his bed. I think he may have fixed it for you."

"I... guess he did."

Alistair felt a knot forming in his throat as his chest grew heavy, recalling the times Eamon had tried to talk to him in the Monastery, and how each time he had refused to see him. He suddenly felt like an idiot, a fool who had thought of only himself when the Arl was no doubt hurting as well.

"See?" She said with a smile, as if reading his thoughts. "He still cares about you. I'm sure that when he wakes up he'll be happy to see you again."

His glanced up from the pendant to her, suddenly realizing what she had just done for him. He had never known his mother. There was not even a memory of her in his mind, just very few stories told to him by the Arl. All he had ever known and felt of her had been the pendant. A memento that as a child he often held for comfort during the times he struggled with her absence. Throwing it away had been the biggest regret he had carried throughout his life in the monastery, a regret made worse when it seemed like everyone had abandoned him.

But now it was once again in his hand, and the familiar weight of it gave him back that comforting feeling he had craved for so long.

"Alistair? Are you all right?

He shifted his attention up to her, his eyes softening upon seeing the concern in her eyes. "I can't believe you remembered... I'm more used to people not listening to what I say."

"Of course I remembered." She uttered while gently taking the necklace from his hand. She then stepped closer, reaching up to slowly slide the chain over his head. She let the amulet hang loosely over his chest, her heart racing as she touched the details etched upon the pendant. "You're special to me..."

His eyes met hers, his pulse quickening at her words and proximity of her body. He searched her sky blue eyes, finding in their depths the truth about how he felt about her. He wanted to kiss her alluring lips. He craved to hold her in his arms and touch her skin, to explore her curves with his bare hands. But the feeling tugging at his heart told him it wasn't just carnal desire drawing him to her.

He was falling in love with her.

"I have a confession to make..." He whispered, his eyes tracing her features.

"Yes...?" She tilted her head, her hand still absently resting over the amulet against his chest.

"I know... we haven't known each other for very long. And maybe it's because of all we have been through together... but..." He smiled lightly, his hands nervously coming up to rest upon her arms. "I... I have grown to care for you… a great deal."

Her eyes widened a fraction as she felt heat rise up to her face, the longing in his eyes making her pulse quicken as she listened to him.

"And I was wondering if..." He swallowed. "If you would ever feel the same way about me?"

Her racing heart was suddenly made it hard to think as she searched for the right words. But the way her heart swelled at his confession, and her sudden desire to taste his lips were all the answers she needed.

She placed her hands against his chest, looking into his eyes as she whispered. "I already do..."

And then her wish came true when he claimed her lips with his, her lips parting as his tongue invaded her mouth. His hand then came up to her cheek as her tongue slowly danced with his, the tip of his fingers lacing through her hair. She wrapped an arm around his neck, sighing softly as she felt her body temperature rise.

It quickly became difficult to think as he found himself wanting her more, his hands aching to roam. He forced himself to pull back, trying to regain control of his urges while somehow managing to keep his manhood in check.

He breathlessly leaned his forehead agaist hers. "That... that wasn't too soon was it?"

She gulped, her heart threatened to break out of her rib cage. "No... I enjoyed it..."

"Hm... I'm relieved to hear that." He smiled, gently stroking her scarred cheek with his thumb. "Maker's breath but you're beautiful. I'm a very lucky man."

She smiled back, leaning into his touch.

He cleared his throat, then stepped back, his hands coming to rest upon her shoulders. "I... should probably leave before I get too carried away."

A gentle laugh escaped her. "Good night, Alistair."

"Good night..." He smiled lightly, turning to the door.

He gave her one last glance before opening it, then closed it behind him.

She stared wistfully at the door, resting her hand against her pounding chest with a smile on her flushed lips.

As Alistair stepped out he released a drawn out breath, trying to calm his racing pulse before he willed himself to keep walking, only to pause as when he noticed a man standing nearby.

"I see I am too late." Teagan chuckled, folding his arms.

Alistair met the man's gaze, knowing he was grinning like an idiot.

But he didn't care.

"I don't think you even had a chance." He said, patting his shoulder as he walked past him. "Good night!"

Teagan watched him go, shaking his head with a chuckle. He may have lost the chance to woo the young Cousland, but Alistair's happy smile told him it was probably better this way.

The next morning, small boats were cast out into the lake, bundled bodies laid out upon them. Archers released flaming arrows, setting them on fire as the sound of a lute playing a sad tune drowned the whimpers of the villagers gathered within the docks. Connor stood next to a crestfallen Isolde, as they both watched the ceremony in awkward silence.

Once the funeral was over, Everil and the others were led out of the castle by Teagan. They stopped at the other side of the bridge, as horses were brought to where they stood.

"The trip to Denerim will be long on foot and Redcliffe's horses are said to be the fastest in Ferelden." Teagan told her, a hand extended to the animals. "Consider them a gift for saving our people and my family. Also, this…"

He handed her a bag of sovereigns, the weight of it making her hands nearly sink.

"Use it for what you need. My brother may be ill at this time, but I will do all I can to help in your efforts to stop the Blight."

"That's very generous." She said uttered gratefully.

He took her hand, bringing it up to his lips for a chaste kiss. "Have safe travels, my lady."

"Thank you. We hope to bring good news about the Urn next time we come to Redcliffe." She replied with a confident smile before she turned to the others. "Alright, pick your horses. We have a long trip ahead of us."

Loghain leaned back on his chair, gently swaying the red liquid in his chalice. He looked down at it with disdain, his reflection staring back at him. He was still not used to all the flourish of nobility, even after thirty years of involving himself in politics.

He nearly missed the farmlands, and he wondered how simple life would have been if the Orelisian Empire hadn't occupied the country so long ago.

A knock on the door made his head snap up from his wine.

"Enter."

The door opened and in came Hawe, his hawkish features twisted with worry. "My Lord, I bring news."

"Speak then."

"The darkspawn are advancing. We have lost many minor villagers and farmlands to their raids." He shifted nervously. "I fear that... with the civil war we might not have enough manpower to battle the Blight. Perhaps we should-"

"Father!"

A blonde woman wearing fine silks barged into the room, stalking her way towards Loghain and pinning him with a glare upon her beautiful features.

"My people are dying out there!" She snapped angrily. "Shouldn't we be fighting the Blight instead of each other!?"

Loghain took a drink from his chalice then calmly regarded his daughter. "We must bring the nobility into line first and then we may gather our forces to replace those lost at Ostagar. This is no true Blight, Anora, only Cailan's vanity demanded it be so. Once we have the army we need we will wipe the lands clean of the darkspawn threat."

"Father, Ferelden cannot face this crisis alone. Cailan was right. We should seek help from Orlais!"

"No!" He slammed his fist down upon the arm of his chair, startling the two people standing in the room.

"Maric and I drove those bastards away and we will not roll out the welcome mat for them now! Ferelden will stand on its own!"

The Queen's hands closed into fists, as she gave her father a hard look. "Did you kill Cailan?"

He rose from his seat, his gaze matching hers. "Cailan's death was his own doing."

She shook her head and threw her arms up in frustration, stumping her way out of the room.

Howe watched uncomfortably, stepping up to the door to ensure no one was listening before closing it.

"There is also the matter of the surviving Grey Wardens. I have taken the liberty to arrange a solution… with your leave of course." He gestured towards the open window, as the wind picked up the drapes. A cloaked figure stepped out from behind the curtains, a smirk on his face as he bowed his head to Loghain.

"The Crows send their regards, your lordship."

Loghain scowled at his right hand man. "You hired an assassin?"

Howe nodded his head, eyes cast down in an act of submission. "By our recent reports, the Grey Wardens have proven to be resilient. Conventional means will not suffice, and this man can be discrete."

He sighed, turning to the fireplace behind him, resting a heavy arm over it. "Get it done."

The man bowed again, his smile spreading further. He then whirled around, the coat flowing with the motion as his light steps headed for the window.

The group made their way through the King's Highway, heading north east towards Ferelden's capital city of Denerim. The lands seemed peaceful, with the occasional shack or village at the roadside. Everil would have found the scenery to be relaxing, were it not for the danger still looming over it.

Seeing the beauty of the Fereldan landscape only made her realize just how fragile it was, something she had not thought about before the Blight began. It was nearly embarrassing to her how sheltered she had been in comparison to the others around her. However, despite her lack of personal experiences, she felt that her parents' constant lectures and her brother's training were becoming quite useful lately.

Everil raised her hand, halting them before suddenly sliding off her horse. Alistair followed suit, drawing his blade as they approached the thick of the foliage. Beyond the bushes, distant growls echoed into their ears. And upon edging further they could see a group of darkspawn currently camping out in the field, gathering around a fire as they bickered over the dismembered remains of several dead people who appeared to be part of a caravan.

"Another group that came out of the ground..." Alistair muttered next to her as they both took cover behind the thick greens.

"I say we make them regret ever coming out." She shrugged off her bow and drew an arrow, signaling for the others to come closer.

"Morrigan I want you to set one of them on fire. Create a distraction."

The witch nodded sternly.

"Leliana, you and I will flank them from opposite sides. Take out as many as you can with your arrows. Alistair, Sten and Atlas can then charge in and take out the rest. Wynne, stand by and provide support if necessary."

They split up to their respective positions. Leliana slowly walked around the enemy camp, as Everil did the same, remaining hidden behind the foliage. As the two took aim, one of the genlocks by the campfire suddenly combusted, screeching out in agony as it ran around camp trying to put itself out. The other darkspawn around it watched it run in amusement as their brother slowly burned alive.

Taking the opportunity Everil and Leliana began to pick off those who were distracted, shooting arrows to their heads and chests. When the darkspawn finally noticed they were under attack nearly half their platoon had already been downed.

They let out a cry, drawing their weapons when the warriors of the group charged. Alistair promptly rammed his shield against the first monster he approached, knocking its weapon arm back before running it through. Sten swung his great sword, slicing several creatures in half as Magnus knocked one down nearby.

They were dead in minutes, their rotten blood seeping into the dirt and killing anything it touched.

Everil frowned angrily at the dead people littering the ground, shaking her head as she put away her bow. She walked up to the others as they gathered in the middle of the massacre, eyeing the damage with disgust.

"Let's pick up anything of use." She said quietly.

"I wonder where these people were going." Leliana knelt next to one of the bodies, gathering the bit of coin still in its pockets.

"They seem to have been going to Redcliffe." Wynne lifted a small book from another body, flipping through it. "They were running from the war..."

Everil's eyes hardened, her hands closing into fists. "I suppose they did not know about what was happening in Redcliffe before we helped save the village. They would have just gone into more trouble... But running into darkspawn was worse."

A hand on her shoulder made her crane her head to look at Alistair's solemn expression, her heart involuntarily skipping a beat.

"No use dwelling on that now. We should probably keep moving before wolves come pick up what's left."

She nodded slowly and then shifted her attention to the others. "Alright. Let's go everyone."

Soon they were forced to camp out in the wilderness once more. It had taken longer than usual to set up camp, upon Everil's insistence they find water for the horses.

She had then made for the river after having told them she would be bathing, her hound dutifully following her.

Alistair let out a small huff as he stared out at the flames lighting their campfire, holding a canteen of water in one hand while feeling somewhat envious of the dog. He recalled their heated kiss, the feeling of her soft lips over his.

"You look like an idiot smiling at nothing."

He looked up to Morrigan, who was staring down at him while standing by the fire.

"You're just mad because I happen to be in a good mood." He responded with a smirk, attempting to play it off. "What do you want, anyway? Did you get bored over in your bubble and decide to come ruin my night?"

"I simply came to discuss something I find to be rather troubling." The witch's amber eyes flickered from the light of the flames, slight irritation upon her fair features.

"Oh? I thought it was impossible for you to be bothered by anything. Since you always have such a sunny disposition." He said and took a drink of water.

"Tell me something, Alistair. Is fraternizing allowed in the Grey Wardens?"

He spat the water out into the fire.

"I thought as much."

He reached up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, heat quickly rising to his face. "I—I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please... Do you not think that after all this time we have been traveling together I would not notice the change? I have seen how you look at her now, with eyes similar to those of a lost puppy." She curled her nose in disgust. "Which leads me to believe something changed between the two of you."

"And what of it? I don't see how that's any of your business." He mumbled, looking away from her penetrating eyes.

She crossed her arms, arrogantly lifting her chin. "You have the fate of these lands on your shoulders, my home included. What would you do if there were a situation in which you had to choose between ending the Blight and the woman you love?"

His head shot up in surprise at her question, and then he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "D-Don't be ridiculous. That would never happen."

"'Tis still something you should consider." With a smirk she stepped up to their supply of food nearby, picking up an apple from the bag before she walked away, leaving a disconcerted Alistair to his thoughts.

He scowled at her retreating form. Had she come all this way from her corner of camp just to tell him that? He inwardly cursed the witch, wondering why it was she found it amusing to torture him.

He hadn't thought falling for his fellow Warden would hurt anything, but Grey Wardens were known by their willingness to sacrifice it all for their cause. Their lives were dedicated to protecting everyone from the Blight, to the point where some nearly lost their own humanity in the process.

Which meant that there was a real chance that his relationship with Everil could be affected. Alistair's brow furrowed as he contemplated all possibilities in his mind. One of them may die in this journey, or they may be forced to make a difficult decision that could tear them apart.

His feelings for her were still new and he had close to no experience when it came to romance, but the possibility of losing her bothered him.

Just as that thought crossed his mind the object of his affections walked up to camp, her hair dripping wet as she shivered lightly. She quickly sought the heat of the fire, taking a seat next to him.

"Ah it feels good not to smell of dirt and sweat." She commented through quivering lips as she reached out to the fire to warm her hands.

His eyes turned towards her, the troubling thoughts lingering. Should he do his duty and end it before things get too serious between them? Perhaps he should cut it short, keep them from possibly hurting each other later. They could go back to being only acquaintances or just friends helping each other through tough times.

She shuddered as a gust of wind suddenly picked up her dripping hair, and he saw then that her once pink lips were nearly purple.

His pensive look turned to concern, mentally kicking himself for not noticing sooner. "Are you all right? You seem cold."

"It's nothing. The lake was much colder than I anticipated. Silly me, right?" She chuckled, smiling warmly at him as she hugged herself in a futile attempt to still her quivering body.

"Uhm... Here." He timidly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her close to him. She seemed to stiffen a little at first, but then let out a sigh, his body heat immediately helping her feel better. The others around camp sent curious glances their way, but he avoided their eyes. Everil on the other hand didn't notice or appear to care, as she cuddled closer to him.

"Is that better?" He uttered quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Much." She whispered back, suddenly feeling relaxed despite the rapid beating of her heart.

The thoughts he had before were then forcibly pushed aside, as he came to a conclusion on the matter. He wanted to be with her, and if the worst came to pass then he would deal with it then.

"I've been meaning to ask... Can we look up someone once we arrive to Denerim?"

She looked up at him and tilted her head. "This someone would not happen to be a former lover, would it?"

His eyes grew wide. "W-What? You think I would take you to... Together? No! Besides, you know I have never..."

She laughed playfully. "It was a joke."

He let out a breath, slightly frustrated. What was it that made these women pick on him so much? Though he didn't mind her teasing as much, he liked to hear that adorable laugh of hers.

"Uh good... All right how do I explain this... You remember when I told you my mother was a serving girl at the castle? I found out a while ago that she had a daughter."

Her eyebrows went up. "So you have a sister?"

"Yes. A half-sister. I have never met her, and only learned of her existence days before Arl Eamon sent me to the Chantry. So when I joined the Grey Wardens I was able to do a bit of digging, and I found out she's still alive, living in Denerim, near the alienege." He gave her a hopeful look. "I would like to meet her... Maybe warn her about the Blight."

"Sure. We can go see her." She smiled.

His hold on her tightened as he hugged her tightly. "Thank you."

"I think we should speak to the elves after our business in Denerim is over with." Everil uttered, staring at the flickering flames.

"The Brecilian Forest is south of Denerim… Yes, we can kill two birds with one stone."

She nodded.

They sat by the fire for hours, as the others systematically retired to their tents. She yawned loudly stretching her arms. "So you will be pulling guard duty? I thought tonight was Leliana's turn."

"Yeah... I lost a bet I made with her." He mumbled, feeling dejected.

"Oh? What was it?"

"I bet her I could make Sten crack a smile. She said she had a lot of faith, but that the Maker himself wouldn't intervene on that for me. I wanted to prove her wrong, but-" He sighed. "-she was right."

Everil laughed, drawing another smile out of him.

"It sounds like you did this to yourself then." She said.

"Yes, I know. No need to pour salt over the wound." He jokingly pouted, then pointed to her tent with his thumb. "Anyway, you should head to bed, it's getting late."

"Yes, I suppose I should." She lifted herself up to her feet. She was about to step away when she paused, tapping him on the shoulder.

When he cranked his head up to look up at her she leaned over, tugging her hair behind her ear as she softly kissed his lips.

She pulled away with a wide smile. "Good night."

"Good night..." He uttered as he watched her walk away, her hound in toe.

The capital city of Ferelden, Denerim. It was the home of the country's royal palace, and the gathering place of the nobles who ruled under the royal family. The roads were bustling with activity, as people all over the country traded their goods and others rushed from one corner to the other through roads of polished stone. The town's massive chantry towered over the buildings lining the roads, but it was not nearly as tall as Drakon Fortress, the city's prison tower. The fortress overshadowed even the royal palace, standing tall like a warning to those who defied the king.

Several gold sovereigns let out a hollowed sound as they scattered over the inn's wooden counter, a hooded brunette standing before it, giving the keeper a stern look.

"We will be using the remaining rooms here."

The old man counted the coins with quivering hands, nodding his head to her once his calculations were finished.

She turned to her companions. "Morrigan and Leliana will accompany Alistair and I. The rest of you shall remain here, so make sure you stay out of trouble."

Upon splitting up their group, the four remaining members exited the inn. They headed for the center of town, while she and her fellow Warden wore cloaks to hide their face and armor. They soon reached the house described in the document Isolde had provided them, a modest looking home.

Everil reached for a gentle knock.

The door soon opened, revealing a middle-aged man with a kin smile.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"We are here to speak to brother Genitivy."

The man paused, eyeing the four with surprise. He looked around suspiciously before gesturing for them to step inside.

"I'm Genitivi's assistant. He is not here at the moment. He has been gone for weeks so I don't know when he will return."

"Then perhaps you can help us. We seek information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

She saw something flicker in his eyes, and he then gestured for them to step inside.

As he led them in they glanced around the house, seeing how the walls were lined with books and religious artifacts, telling them of the scholar's successful background.

The assistant then spoke. "It has been some time since I was asked about this. And I must regrettably tell you that you seek a lost cause. The Urn does not exist.

Everil folded her arms, stopping by the long dinner table at the center of the room. "Hm.. I don't understand. A piece of Genitivi's manuscript stating otherwise was found and delivered to Redcliffe."

The man picked up one of the books, using his robe to dust it off, avoiding their gaze as he cleaned up. "That was an old document. We have long since given up on the search of the Urn, and perhaps you should do the same."

Everil observed his movements, noticing a slight tremor in his hands. "I cannot... You see, there is sick man who needs the ashes to recover. If we do not at last try, he will die."

"Several knights came here stating the same thing and I was forced to tell them what I just told you." He sighed, shaking his head. "You should go."

"Several knights?" Everil's brow lifted. "How long ago was this?"

"Hm perhaps… a few weeks ago." He glanced her way with shifting eyes, before continued his work.

She looked to Alistair, who also gave her a stern look.

"Hey, by any chance, do you know what happened to those men?" Alistair took a step towards him with an inquisitive look. "They never returned to Redcliffe."

The man let out an elaborate sigh, shaking his head sadly once more. He set down the book and then leaned over the table with slumped shoulders. "I told you to leave, but you leave me no choice."

Several men poured out of closets and doors around them, armed with knives and daggers. They closed in on them, intent on quickly ending their lives. Everil, Leliana and Alistair drew their weapons, as they blocked each hit while protecting their mage as Morrigan stood in the back.

"Bastard…" Everil greeted her teeth and kicked one man in the gut, pushing him away from her before her blade sunk into his chest. She then whirled around, slicing the neck of another, his blood spraying on the wooden floors.

Alistair easily pushed off his opponent, slashing at his stomach. Leliana promptly dispatched the others as she wove her way through them with a dagger.

Everil then approached the cowering assistant, sword in hand as she pointed it at his throat. "Start talking. Who are you and why are you killing all who ask about the Urn?"

He shook as he was pinned to the wall, his hands reaching down for his knife.

"Don't do it…" She warned. "I will slice your throat in an instant."

"You are not worthy of witnessing Andraste's glory!" He slashed out, but before he could Everil's blade slit his neck. He sank to the floor, a pool of blood forming beneath him.

She curled up her nose and shifted her attention to her group. "Search the house. We need anything that can give us a clue to what happened to Genitivi."

They flipped through books and searched the room. Leliana went into the man's bedroom, reaching for a desk when her eyes landed on a body bundled on the floor. She covered her nose and approached it, kneeling over it to inspect it. It looked to have been dead for a while, as it lay bloated and decomposing.

For a moment she thought this man might have been Genitivi himself, but the book it was holding stated differently. She flipped through the pages then stood, heading out the door. "I found something."

The others looked up from their searching spots, walking up to her.

"This Genitivi is not here. He has left for a village near the Frostback Mountains to the west." She handed the book to Everil, who flipped through it. "That is his diary, I believe. It says there that he was close to finding the Urn, and that this village called Haven was the key."

She nodded. "Good work. It looks like we will be traveling that way soon."

With that they made their way out of the house, leaving the corpses for the castle's soldiers to find and clean up.

"You have a sister?" Leliana's eyebrows shot up as they headed for the homes just outside the elven alienage.

Their companions were now generally aware of his past, upon having told them after leaving Redcliffe. He figured there would be no harm in them knowing, thinking it best not to keep secrets. He wasn't as worried about the outcome as he was before he told Everil, since really, she had been the only person whose opinion truly mattered. It did feel a little better to know the others also knew, and that they had begun to trust each other in some ways.

"Yes. But this is the first time I will actually meet her." He replied as they neared the house, his hands opening and closing anxiously.

The three women stood a few feet back, giving him space as he prepared himself to enter the rackety shack. He swallowed, hesitating before the door.

"Are you going inside or what?" Morrigan said impatiently, folding her arms.

He shot her a glare. "Don't rush me…"

Alistair let out a breath and then shifted his attention to his fellow Warden, his features softening into unease. "Everil uh… can you… uh."

"Do you want me to go in with you?" She gave him a smile.

He nodded timidly.

"It's all right. I'll help you." She said as she stepped closer, while Morrigan rolled her eyes behind her.

Everil reached up and knocked on the door, as Alistair nervously shifted on his feet beside her.

"Bertha! I already told you your laundry ain't done until—"

The door opened, and worn out woman glared out at them, puzzlement in her hard gaze. "What do you want?"

"We came to talk to you about something important. Do you mind if we come in?" Everil said gently, trying to be polite to the obviously uncomfortable woman.

Goldanna looked at her critically, seeing the intricate design of what little was revealed of their armor through their coat. She huffed. "'Course you can. You rich folk go about as if you own everything anyways."

She grumpily stepped inside, leaving the door open.

Alistair and Everil exchanged a look before they went in, leaving Morrigan and Leliana outside.

"Charming woman, no?" Leliana commented with an awkward smile.

Goldanna's house was small and falling apart, with patches of wood on every wall. Three children sat on the small living room, playing with dolls made out of straw. Clothes were piled in a dented metal basin, soaking in dirty water.

Alistair and Everil looked around awkwardly, feeling slightly out of place, while also holding sympathetic looks at the conditions she was living in.

"What do you want with me? I have a lot of work to do." Goldanna crossed her arms, her short, messy blonde hair sticking to her sweat stricken face.

Alistair swallowed nervously and then spoke. "My name is Alistair. And I... know this might sound sort of strange to you... but are you Goldanna? If so... then I guess I'm your brother."

"My what? I am Goanna, yes... how do you know my name?" She gave him an annoyed look. "What sort of tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

"He speaks the truth. Listen to him." Everil said softly, trying to appease her.

Alistair then continued. "I don't know if you knew of this, but... when our mother worked at the castle she had another child. I'm-"

"You! I knew it! They told me you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with Mother!"

Alistair frowned. "They told you that? Who did?"

"Thems at the castle!"

"Oh uhm well the babe didn't die... I'm him. I'm your brother."

She scoffed. "For all the good that does me! You killed Mother, you did! I've been having to scrape by all this time? That coin didn't last long, and when I went back they ran me off!"

Alistair shrunk away under her accusations, wincing with each finger she pointed at him.

Everil watched with fists closed, struggling to control her own temper as she listened to his sister's hateful words. She took in an even breath. "Look, what happened was not his fault."

Goldanna's hateful eyes turned her way then, pinning her with a dirty look. "And who are you? Some tart following him around like some mabari bitch?"

"Hey! Don't speak to her that way! She's my friend and a Grey Warden! Just like me!" Alistair snapped, glaring down at his sister while earning a surprised look from Everil.

"Ooh? A Grey Warden and a Prince." Goldanna muttered with poison in her voice. "How high and mighty you are compared to me. I don't know you boy. All I know is that your royal father forced himself upon my mother and I was left to fend for me self. Those bastads at the castle tricked me good! I should have told everyone!"

She waved at him dismissively. "I have five mouths to feed, so unless you can help with that then I have less than no use for you."

He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, his earlier anger forgotten. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

Everil sighed. "Goldanna, Alistair just wanted to find his family."

"Well he found it. And unless he can make sure his nieces and nephews live how they have a right to, then he's worthless to me."

"I... I suppose I could help somehow..." he turned to Everil, a helpless look upon his face. "How about 5 sovereigns? Will you let me give her that?"

Everil hesitated, the anger at the insolent woman making her wish she could just slap the bitterness out of her. But she took in a breath, reaching into their bag of coin with a calm facade. "If that's what you want, then here."

"Thanks." He smiled, taking the coin from her, then offering it to Goldanna.

She took it with a distasteful look, gazing down at the five golden coins in her hand. "That's it? You have all that coin in that bag of yours and this is all you can spare?"

Everil scowled. "If you haven't noticed we're fighting a Blight. We cannot afford to give away money at the moment."

"I wasn't talking to you." She replied, picking the coin before giving Alistair a dirty look. "So answer me you would-be prince. Is your family worth just five miserable sovereigns?"

Alistair's jaw tensed as he closed his hands into fists, his heart twisting at what was happening. Most would have been grateful, especially since that kind of money could actually feed her family for a few weeks. He didn't know what to do or say, but he regretted ever meeting this woman.

"I'm sorry... that's all I can give you. I... wish I could do more, but—"

"Then get out of my house!" She said angrily, pointing to the door.

Alistair shook his head and placed his hand on Everil's shoulder, turning them towards the door as he opened it for them. It then slammed behind them, before m Everil sent the door an irritated look.

Morrigan chuckled, a smirk spreading over her lips. "I take it she was not fond of the idea of having you for a brother. I cannot say I blame her."

Alistair shot her an angry yet hurt glance before stalking past her, avoiding their gaze.

"Alistair wait!" Everil called after him, but he kept walking. She sternly shook her head to Morrigan. "Go back to the Inn. I'll go talk to him."

The witch rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she watched their leader walk away to try to catch up with their dejected companion.

"That was unnecessary, Morrigan." Leliana frowned worriedly.

She clicked her tongue. "The man is pathetic, and I treat him as such. Your opinion is irrelevant to me."

Everil grunted as people bumped into her, completely ignoring her presence in their haste to keep moving. She kept trying to follow, eyes focusing on his retreating form as he headed for the nearest alley.

She cursed as another person ran into her, then shoved her out of the crowd. She panted, sighing with relief at finally being out of the mess. Her eyes then searched the back streets as she made her way through them, noticing how empty they were. She then paused when she finally she found him, his slouched form sitting on a set of steps that led to a large gate and further into the city.

She took a few steps, watching as he leaned over on his knees with a heavy breath.

"Alistair?"

His head shot up, a somewhat lost look in his eyes before his features softened into an apologetic look. "I...I'm sorry."

She shook her head, walking up to him. "It's all right. Goldanna said painful things to you and Morrigan just made it worse. I don't blame you for walking away from that."

"I just... I thought she would be happy to meet me. I thought she would accept me without question."

"I know..." Everil uttered as she climbed the steps and took a seat next to him, resting her arms on her knees. "I didn't expect she would react that way either."

"I just can't believe the sister I dreamed of meeting one day would turn out to be such a...such a…"

"Gold-digging harridan?"

"Heh… Yes. That's accurate."

She leaned back on the steps, gazing up at the blue sky over tall buildings framing the alley. "I'm sorry this happened to you… but perhaps this means it's time you look out for yourself a little more, rather than seek others to do it for you."

He gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you should stand up for yourself more. Be more self-reliant." She leaned over, resting her hand on his forearm. "Because although you have friends around you, in the end, you don't really need anyone else but yourself."

Realization suddenly dawned upon him.

She was right. He had been so focused on how lonely and unwanted he had felt throughout the years that he was constantly trying to fit in, to find a family who would accept him for who he was. And in turn he had allowed those he respected to make all the decisions for him, so much so he didn't know how to be any other way.

He had to change that, to understand that while he may not have the family he longed for he didn't need it in order to build his own happiness.

And as the thought sunk into his head he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders, as if he were finally brave enough to live for himself.

With a small smile he placed a hand on hers, meeting her eyes with a gentle look of his own. "I have some growing up to do, don't I?"

"Everyone does, and there is strength in knowing that." She uttered, returning the smile.

"Then I'll follow your advice... I'll stand up for myself more and make my life my own without anyone's help." He leaned down to gently press his lips to hers.

She chuckled. "Just don't forget you can still rely on me for help here and there."

"I know." His smile widened. "Thank you."

A scream for help suddenly drew their attention, startling them.

They exchanged a glance as another scream was heard.

"Come on." Everil said as she stood, more screams reaching their ears as they rushed down the steps and through the alley as they followed the cries.

A crying woman was standing head of them, her back to them as she sobbed uncontrollably on the other side of one of the iron gates that sectioned the area. The two slowed down to a stop by her, and Everil reached for her shoulder, cautiously trying to turn her around to face her.

"Hey, are you all right?"

The woman began to chuckle, drawing odd looks from them before she unexpectedly whirled around. Wearing a mask, the woman set off a small bomb of green smoke that covered her and Everil as she hid behind the cover. The large gate behind them then fell shut, trapping them inside as several men began appearing from behind walls and boxes in the alley.

Then Everil gazed up as one man caught her attention, the one no doubt leading the assault, as he stood upon a rooftop watching them from above.

She quickly drew her sword and dagger as her companions pulled out his blade.

"An ambush?" Alistair muttered with irritation, eyeing their opponents.

The enemy then charged, slashing at them swords and daggers. Alistair blocked a blade with his, quickly shoving the attacker's weapon and running him through before shifting on his feet to take on another. It was just she and he now, no help from their companions, and they seemed to be outnumbered.

"Kill the Grey Wardens!" One of them cried out as he pounced onto Everil, who blocked his two daggers with both of her weapons. She kicked him on the knee, making him break his stance before slicing sideways, cutting open his throat.

The same woman from before then jumped in, her swift feet like those of a cat as she clashed her daggers against her. Everil greeted her teeth as she kicked, only to hit air as the other rogue quickly side stepped to attack again from the side. She used her sword to block and then swung with her dagger, only to hit air again.

Although she was growing increasingly frustrated she kept going, slashing at the woman until eventually she was forced to block her.

Alistair brought his sword forth, stabbing a man in the stomach before using his foot to pry him off. "How do they know who we are!?"

Everil pushed the rogue off her, drawing a breath before the woman pounced on her again.

"I don't know! I think they—"

A coughing fit suddenly rocked her and ahebsuddenly felt as if all control over her body had been stolen from her, the grip on her weapons weakening. The masked female struck then, hitting her blades and sending them flying out of her reach. Everil then fell on her knees, coughing as she tried to stand back up.

"W-What...?" Was all she could say before she was thrown over someone's shoulder, her limps gone limp despite her efforts to move. Then her captor threw another bomb into the ground, creating a curtain of green gas that hid them both.

"Everil!" Alistair called out as he took several running steps towards the smoke, only to stop as a massive man jumped down before him from above, blocking his path.

He gazed up at him in surprise, unable to see his face through the thick iron helmet and instead spotting the eyes staring down at him through the slot.

Too large for a man, it was a qunari.

The giant spun a thick chain vertically, a heavy spiked ball at the end, the edges stained a deep red with the blood of past enemies.

Yet despite his disadvantage in both size and strength, Alistair narrowed his eyes at the behemoth as he spoke in a threatening tone. "Get out of my way..."

The Qunari chuckled darkly. "No can do."

"Thorpe!" Shouted the hooded male still standing upon the rooftop. "Be a good boy and kill him for the Crows! I have a mess to clean up!"

He then vanished, leaving what remained of his men injured upon the ground and the Warden alone with his next opponent. The brute growled and rushed him, drawing his great sword and swinging it down at him. Alistair dodged to the side, slicing in diagonal, trying to slash at the man's exposed flesh. He dragged the weapon on the dirt, attacking upwards and forcing Alistair to block with his shield.

The strong hit made him tense his jaw, the loud clang ringing in his ears as metal hit metal. Thorpe then brought his sword back down, again forcing him to block with the shield. Great swords were mostly used for reach, whereas Alistair's sword was used for close quarters.

He had to somehow get closer without accidentally losing his head.

Thorpe then growled again. "Come puny man! I am beginning to think you Grey Wardens are not what you claim to be!"

He swung down, and Alistair sidestepped, letting the enemy's weapon hit the ground. Alistair then ran forward, trying to close in on him with his sword poised to stab him. The brute grabbed his sword with his bare hand, making Alistair's eyes grow wide as he was suddenly punched on the ribs by a metal-covered fist, the hit robbing him of all air. As he stumbled the qunari then flung him to the side, watching skit through the ground.

"Pathetic!" He laughed as Alistair quickly rolled to his feet.

As soon as Alistair maid to attack him again, he swung out his chain; wrapping it around his legs and making him fall on his back yet again. Thorpe dragged him on the ground, drawing him in as if he were a freshly caught fish, cackling mockingly.

Alistair struggled to break free, but soon he found himself at the feet of the enemy as he drew back his weapon, ready to end him.

He quickly rolled, the blade stabbing the dirt and gracing his arm as it went down.

Alistair quickly untangled the chain, left with enough time to try to dodge another hit, the blade gracing his hip. Small bloodstains covered his blue Grey Warden armor, his own blood, but was he too busy blocking attacks and trying to end the fight to notice. He quickly searched for vulnerabilities, something he knew he should have done a while ago.

The man's left hand carried the chain, which left him open on the left side while he was armed with the great sword on the right side.

He blocked another hit, grunting at the force. If he could somehow go around him to hit his open side…

Thorpe's blade hitting the dirt gave him an idea, and he smirked.

He took a step back, then hopped to the side and out of the way of another attack. He then dodged another, until he saw him raise his blade up high, ready for another massive down swing. This time Alistair stood his ground, bringing his shield up at a slightly tilted angle just in time to make the large blade scrape over it, sparks flying as he diverted the hit. The sword struck sideways, stabbing the ground at an angle. Alistair then quickly used the man weapon as a stand, jumping of it and leading with his shield.

He slammed it squarely against the enemy's head, denting his helmet and making him sway dizzily. Alistair then landed and slashed sideway, cutting through the man's leg forcing him to a knee before Alistair came up and ended it, stabbing through his neck.

Thorpe let out a gurgling noise, blood pouring out of his mouth as he grabbed desperately at the blade.

"Just so you know before you die: Grey Wardens don't just make claims, we simply are the best there is." Alistair uttered coldly, his eyes boring into his before he twisted his sword and then slashed to the side, ripping it out of the man's throat.

She could only see the back of the woman carrying her over her shoulder, her muscles still refusing to obey her. In the distance, she could hear some voices, laughter of women and the moans of men, along with the scent of ale and sweat. She could not make out the words spoken among the people around her, but she could tell they were in some sort of tavern.

Moments later she was laid upon a worn bed, her body flopping down as if lifeless. Whatever they made her inhale before took away her ability to fight back. Anger rose up within her as she struggled to lift her hands, her fingers twitching with every effort she made.

She felt her arms being pulled up and tied to what she could assume was the headboard of the bed she lay upon, the roughness of the rope making her wince.

The woman who had dragged her along pulled away, tugging down her mask and staring down at her with a satisfied smile before steps at the door had her whirling around with a hand on her dagger.

"Oh it's you, Zevran." She uttered, lowering her hand.

He pulled off his hood, revealing a mane of platinum hair over a tanned skin and pointed ears. He put on a cocky grin, tilting his head as he gestured to the disabled Warden. "Is this your idea of a kinky eve? Because if it is, I am very interested in finding out where it leads."

She scoffed. "The Teyrn of Highever offered me a great deal of extra coin for bringing this one to him alive. I think killing the other one should satisfy Loghain, don't you?"

Everil's eyes widened with surprise. "Both Loghain and Howe are behind this...?"

Her resentment quickly turned into concern. She had not seen Alistair's situation before she was dragged away, but she knew they had been able to kill most of the enemies around them.

She let out an anguished breath. "Maker, I hope he's all right…"

Zevran clicked his tongue, jokingly chastising his partner. "Len, you know the Crows don't like it when we act on our own. Not killing the target and going around the original contract to negotiate with someone else is… frowned upon."

"Yes, I know that." She said with slight irritation. "But this I could not pass up... With this much pay I could run away. Leave the Crows and build my own life! Can you imagine?"

Zevran gave her an amused smile. "You think they'll let you off the hook, just like that?"

"I'm sure they won't."

"And you do realize I would have to kill you for doing this, no?" His smile didn't waver.

Len took an involuntary step back, knowing well that if he so wanted to he could end her life on the spot. The female assassin put on a confident mask, matching his smile. "But we're friends, so you won't do it. Right, Zevran?"

"Hmm… We will see what this deal brings you. I'm not particularly loyal to the Crows myself, you know." He walked up to the bed, gazing down at the Warden. She looked to be a capable fighter back in the alley, but now she lay helplessly and at their mercy. This allowed him to take a closer look however, and he wasn't disappointed.

His brown eyes trailed down her features, from her dark-brown hair to the swell of her chest under the armor and the curvature of her wide hips. She reminded him of a porcelain doll whose cheek had accidently been chipped, her fair skin and pink lips enticing him.

He reached down, stroking the slight imperfection on her otherwise perfect skin, taking notice of the fire in her sky blue eyes.

The other woman in the room watched him with a smirk. "Pretty one, isn't she?"

He nodded. "I didn't know Grey Wardens allowed women in their ranks. She almost looks to be of noble blood."

"She is."

His head turned towards her. "Oh?"

"The Teyrn gave me more information than he probably should have… He has a huge head, that one." The redhead folded her arms. "He boasted about taking out the previous owner of the title, along with his family. He said this one was the last loose end, which is why he was willing to pay me handsomely for her."

Zevran raised a thin brow, trying to understand the man's logic. "Isn't it easier to just let us kill her? Why would he want her delivered alive, instead?"

"Who knows… you know these nobles can be sick bastards. Maybe he has something planned for her." She shrugged. "Either way, I don't care. I just want my sovereigns."

The elf returned his attention to the Grey Warden, wondering if perhaps death would be a more merciful fate.

"How could you let this happen!? Were you not with her?!" Morrigan demanded irritably with folded arms, glaring at the Grey Warden currently passing in the room like a caged wolf, the eyes of their companions also upon him.

"I was, but there was nothing I could do!"

"Then what good are you? Are you so worthless that you cannot even—"

"The woman I care about was taken from me by some unknown... dangerous people! So if you're trying to make me feel worse you're wasting your time!" Alistair's snapped, frustration straining his voice.

Morrigan opened her mouth to protest, but Wynne stepped in to put an end to their argument.

"Now is not the time to point fingers! We should be thinking about what to do to find her quickly."

"She's right." Leliana added, worry creasing her brow. "If they were skilled enough to take her, they must be hired professionals. Did you hear them say anything that can help us?"

Alistair took in a breath to calm himself, recalling the name. "One of them mentioned something about… Crows."

Her eyes widened a fraction. "The Crows…"

He frowned. "You know of them?"

She nodded. "They are a renowned guild of assassins from Antiva. But they often do business outside of their country, if the person who hires them is willing to pay for it, that is."

"Then I bet Loghain is responsible for this…" He uttered angrily, crossing his arms.

"It is possible. They would have to possess a great deal of wealth to be able to afford their services." She gave him a puzzled look. "I have never heard of them taking hostages, however. It's possible a deal was struck outside of the initial contract—an agreement to bring her alive, but to kill the other Warden."

"How does a Chantry nun know about all this?" Morrigan lifted a brow.

Leliana smiled innocently. "One hears many things during one's travels, no? I was a traveling minstrel in Orlais before I became a sister, and tales of intrigue were part of my repertoire."

"I see…" Morrigan's suspicious look only deepened. There was definitely more to this woman than she let on.

"Well, we at least we know who we're dealing with. Now we have to figure out a way to find her…" Alistair muttered, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

A bark resounded in the room, drawing their attention to Everil's hound as he sat nearby. Magnus then stood and walked up to the door, scratching at it with its paw.

"You know where she is?" Wynne prompted.

The dog barked again, sitting by the door.

"They say mabari can track anything from miles away... I bet he can follow her scent." Alistair said and then turned to them with renewed confidence. "All right. Hurry up and get your weapons. We're going."

Magnus led them through the back roads, sniffing the ground without pause as Alistair and the others followed him. It felt awkward to be led through Denerim by a dog, but mabari were known not only for their strength and resilience in battle, but also for their hunting skills.

Alistair made a mental note to reward him later, once its mistress was found and brought back to them. To him.

It barked in another direction, leading them further through the least populated areas of the city as the sun began to set, leaving them in near darkness with only Morrigan's flame to light the way. They soon neared the harbor, where massive ships were docked. This was the main point of trade between Ferelden and countries across the sea, and only fishermen and merchants lived nearby. So although people walked the streets, only men could be seen at every turn.

They hid in one of the alleys leading to the harbor, looking over the corner at the people walking by.

Magnus barked repeatedly towards the well-lit building further down the harbor, and they knew then where their companion was being kept.

"Is that the sea?" Morrigan asked quietly from behind, hearing the rolling of the waves from where they stood. She stepped forth, pushing Alistair aside to get closer. This was the first time she ever smelled the ocean, heard the rolling of the waves, though the chatter of the people around them seemed to lightly drown away the pleasant sound.

Suddenly he pulled her back by the arm.

"What are you doing?" He bit out. "You can't just go out there! What if they saw you with us earlier?"

She glared at him, roughly pulling her arm out of his grip.

"Then what do you suggest? Shall we hide until the Blight is upon us instead?!" She hissed back.

Leliana and Wynne let out simultaneous sighs, while Sten merely watched the exchange.

"Just... Give me a minute." He grumbled before poking his head around the corner, trying to take in more of the scenery.

He took a closer look at the building and the sign hanging high upon it, reading the words The Pearl written over it. Men were gathered outside, laughing loudly while drinking and playing games as women served them ale. He recalled his last trip to Denerim with Duncan, when the soldiers at the castle had suggested they visit the place, claiming it was their favorite spot for a pastime. Though he had also heard from others that both guards and petty criminals gathered there, often too busy having their fun to notice each other's presence.

A group of five heavily armored soldiers caught his attention, their backs stiff as they took purposeful steps towards The Pearl. Anyone else would have likely seen a group of friends seeking some fun, but from a distance they definitely lacked the high spirits of men looking to drink and get laid. They went towards the back of the bar, possibly going in through the backdoor to avoid the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse of their shields.

Alistair's eyes widened, immediately recognizing the symbol drawn upon them. "Howe… He was the one who ordered her capture!"

"What are you on about?" Morrigan muttered irritably.

"I don't have time to explain." He turned to them, eyes sharp. "But we have to hurry and get Everil out of there."

"What do you want us to do?" Leliana asked him, tilting her head worriedly.

He paused, surprised as they all turned to him.

As fellow Grey Wardens, he and Everil had somewhat shared some of the decision-making up until now, but this was the first time he was fully in charge of anything or anyone. He swallowed, looking at each of them as he considered their strengths and weaknesses, trying to think as she would in this situation. If he made the wrong call, he would either get himself and their leader killed, or get everyone killed all together.

Everil's words as they sat upon those stairs suddenly crossed his mind.

"Be more self-reliant…"

He had to save her. There was no time for doubt.

"The place is dangerous, and we don't know how many of them there are. We also don't know where she is… all of us bursting in won't do." He uttered, and then turned to them. "One man won't draw as much attention as a group of people would, so I'll go in on my own and try to blend in."

He then shifted his gaze to Leliana.

"Leliana, you're good at sneaking around... I want you to find another way in and deal with those soldiers we just saw. Can you do that?"

A smirk crossed her features. "Of course."

"Magnus, Sten, Wynne and Morrigan... You four will remain outside and watch for any reinforcements trying to enter the building. Sten and the hound can take on the enemy, while the two of you back them up. Got it?"

"Yes." Wynne replied confidently. "Be careful in there, young man."

"Right…" He drew in a breath and pulled the hood over his head, trying to hide his face and armor from view. "Let's do this."

He casually walked out of the alley, steadily making his way to the bar. Leliana waited a few minutes, covering her own face with her hood before nimbly rushing forth, using as much cover as she could to make her way to the brothel.

Alistair neared the place, cautiously eyeing the people around him while also avoiding direct eye contact. He didn't recognize the first few men he ran into just outside, and they seemed too preoccupied burying their faces in women's breasts to even notice him walking by. He pushed the door open and stepped in, drawing the glances of some of the patrons, though as soon as they saw him enter, they returned to what their women, games and ale.

He scanned the area. It was dimly lit on the inside, with only a few candles here and there to keep people from tripping over each other. As he walked moans reached his ears, along with the smell of sweat and booze. His nose wrinkled involuntarily in disgust. He found himself wondering if it was necessary to be drunk in order to endure it, or if it was a smell only frequent visitors grew to love.

At the tables, women openly wrapped their legs around the men, while they fondled them freely and without shame. A bar was at the far corner, where ale was constantly being poured to be delivered to the guests.

It was strange to see such a venue in the capital of his country, but then again sailors and soldiers needed their entertainment. He imagined Cailan also knew little of it all, despite it practically standing in his back yard. Not to mention there was probably some unspoken rule not to speak of what went on within the one place in Denerim were most could get away with murder.

"Hi there, handsome."

He turned to see a woman with her chest in the open, as she placed her hands on his broad shoulders. He gulped, trying hard to avoid looking at her half naked body as he gently pushed her away.

"Sorry... " He cleared his throat. "Not here for that."

She gave him a shocked look before she huffed and stalked away, heading for another incoming guest.

He climbed the stairs up to the second floor of the brothel, which overlooked the entire bar. He pulled down the hood to allow him to see the place better. Rows of rooms lined the above area in a large square, a hallway opening up to more rooms on either side. A few couples leaned against the wooden railing guarding the top floor, completely oblivious of him. He looked around, then continued on, a hand upon the hilt of his sword.

Len paced uncomfortably. "They should be here by now."

"Who?" Zevran frowned, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

"The Teyrn's soldiers, of course. I'll be back... I'm going to meet them and lead them in." She walked out, closing the door behind her.

She smirked as the made her way through the hall.

Of course an arrangement was already made. They were waiting for her, and all she needed to do was give them the room's location and take her money. She had to leave Zevran behind, else she would risk him killing her to save his skin.

She crossed the T shaped hallway, passing a few rooms and turning the corner towards the storeroom in the back of the tavern, nearly bumping into a man in her haste.

Zevran shrugged at the door, then turned his eyes down to the Warden, watching as she pressed her lips together.

"She gave you a strong doze, eh? But I suppose that's what it takes to keep you this docile, considering that look you're giving me." He grinned, folding his arms. "You know, I don't much like the idea of turning you over to someone who sounds like they want to torture or make an example out of you. Instead, I could just kill you and fulfill my contract…"

He brought a hand to her face, running a finger down her cheek. "But then taking the life of such a ravishing woman like yourself would make feel like a terrible man."

She glared back at him in silence, her eyes murderous.

"Hmm… decisions, decisions…" He put his chin on his first, seemingly pensive as he stared down at her. "What do you say I just roll the dice and we find out what happens after? Yes, I think I would rather try that."

He chuckled, then produced a small envelop from one of his bags. "However, before we can do that I have to help you out of your little predicament. Just please promise not to kill me after I do this, all right? A life for a life."

Everil's eyes softened a fraction, a good enough answer for him.

He leaned over, reaching to part her lips with his thumb only to stop mid-action, an idea suddenly occurring to him. "Actually... Let's make this a little more exciting, shall we?"

He poured the powder into his mouth and then lowered himself, pressing his lips against hers and parting then with his tongue.

Her eyes grew wide, indignation quickly flaring. Yes, she had agreed to let the man live if he helped her, but this was not part of the deal.

He felt the powder slide down into her mouth, as she involuntarily swallowed it with a weak groan. He let out a pleased sound as he tasted the sweetness of her, enjoying the softness of her moist lips. He knew it was time to withdraw from her enticing mouth, yet he was finding it increasingly difficult.

That is, until the door flew open. "Ev-!"

Zevran pulled away from her flushed face, his head snapping in the man's direction, a smile spreading upon his lips upon quickly recognizing the now stunned intruder.

"Oh! You're alive?" He uttered awkwardly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That means you beat Thorpe. Impressive!"

Alistair's initial shock was promptly replaced by an anger he had never felt before, and his darkening expression made Zevran instantly realize just how bad the scene before him looked.

"Wait—"

The Grey Warden drew his sword without a word, and in two steps he was on top of him, grabbing him by the front of his leather armor and effortlessly slamming him against the nearest wall.

"Wait! Let me explain!" Zevran raised his hands, trying to appease the man who was currently and precariously pressing his blade against his throat.

"Explain what?!" He snapped, his nose nearly touching his, his hand itching to slice his neck open. "How you tried to kill me and took her away?! Or how I walked in on you forcing yourself upon her?!"

Zevran quickly drew his blade and crouched, slithering out of his grasp like a phantom and leaving only his own cloak in his hand.

Alistair found himself facing the empty wall, a dagger pointed at his neck as the elf stood behind him.

"She was paralyzed by the woman I work with, so I was giving her the antidote." Zevran uttered irritably, and then a smile tugged at his lips. "Though I admit it was hard to stop tasting those lips of hers."

Alistair dropped the cloth, and before the elf could cut him, shoved the knife away with his hand, his blood spraying the floor. He whirled around, slashing sideways with his sword only for it to clash with the rogue's dagger.

Zevran grinned, his arms shaking as he held back the man's blade with both of his. "You know, I couldn't bring myself to kill your partner, but one Grey Warden is better than none. I could just kill you and blame the rest of this mess on someone else."

"Try it! Yet another reason for me to run you through!" Alistair pulled back his sword then slashed sideways.

Zevran took a step back, blocking the hit as Alistair continued to attack him. He ducked; dodging a diagonal slash, then took another step back.

The two soon found themselves out in the hallway, as Alistair continued to advance on him, knocking items off decorative tables as he swung his blade. Zevran twisted out of the way, then slashed, forcing Alistair to block with his armored arm.

Len met the soldiers, one of them holding a bag of coin in his hand.

"About time you showed up." One of them uttered irritably.

"She's all yours." She scowled, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. "Now pay up."

He scoffed. "What? You thought we were just going to pay you without having the girl in our hands first? Are you stupid?"

Her brows shot up. "But... The deal was..."

"The deal was a fair trade: The last Cousland for the coin. You're taking us to her first!"

"All right, fine!" She raised her hands up. "Follow me."

She turned on her heel, cursing under her breath while leading the men inside. As they stepped into the dark storeroom, a sound coming from above made the group stop and quickly reach for their blades.

"What was that?"

One of them suddenly felt hands on his chin, only to have his neck broken with a sickening crack. His body crumbled to the ground, while the others turned to watch in shock, unable to see what caused him to fall dead.

As they hurried forward, another one soon followed, and Len could immediately tell there was another assassin in the room with them.

"Damn it!" She drew her blades, looking up at the dark ceiling, where only a bit of light filtered through the cracks between the wooden boards.

The leader of the soldiers greeted his teeth, drawing his own blade. "We're sitting ducks here. We have to keep moving!"

She clicked her tongue. "Just... Run!"

The remaining group rushed forth, only to be halted by a female form that dropped from above. She fell on a knee and slowly rose, drawing her weapons as she smirked at the Crow.

"Sorry, but I cannot allow you to go further in." Leliana's seductive voice reached their ears, as the soldier fidgeted nervously.

"Who in damnation are you?" Len spat.

If she wanted to get paid, she had to make sure the bastards made it to the Grey Warden.

"Someone whose friend you took."

"So you're another Grey Warden? I thought there was only two left..."

"I'm no Warden, but I'm their comrade none the less." Leliana took a step forward. "And I will make you regret ever crossing our path."

With that Laliana kicked forth, her daggers aiming for the leader of the knights, but blocked by the woman as she slid between the two.

"Hurry and go! I'll take care of her!" Len shouted, struggling against Leliana's daggers with her own.

The three men quickly went around, and when Leliana tried to stop them, the other assassin rushed in to stand in her way. She swung at her, as Len deflected the hit. The two red heads slashed at each other, their weapons clashing with each attack.

Leliana shifted, avoiding a dagger to the side before going down to kick at her feet. Len hopped back, then threw several smaller knifes at the woman. Leliana ran, dodging them as they hit the wall.

She had to end it fast and go help against the knights.

"You can't beat me!" Len snapped, pulling up her mask while releasing one of her flasks.

The flask landed by Leliana's feet, filling the air with smoke.

Len laughed, readying her daggers to go in for the kill when suddenly lithe arms snaked around her neck from behind.

"Do you know what makes a true assassin?" Leliana laughed seductively into her ear, a delicate hand taking hold of her mask. "Immunity to your own tricks."

She pulled down the mask, forcing the woman to breathe in the gas. Len gasped for air as the poison burned through her muscles, taking away her ability to move. It then paralyzed her lungs, robbing her of breath.

"I was trained to build resistance against such tricks by one of the best assassins in Orlais, you see. It seems you didn't receive the same sort of training." She shook her head, clicking her tongue in mock pity. "Such a shame."

Then having had enough of the squirming, she shoved her blade into her back, pierced through the front of the younger woman's chest.

"May the Maker take you." She whispered in her ear one last time, then let her fall unceremoniously to the floor, Len's blood pooling beneath her body as she struggled to breathe.

Leliana then swung her dagger, wiping it clean of blood before turning on her heel, leaving her to bleed out in the dark as she quickly stepped towards the door.

Everil grunted as her body slowly regained the sense of feel, her muscles tingling. She weakly pulled herself to the rope around her wrists, using her teeth to untie the knot. She then slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position, her body protesting with every move she made. She forced her legs over the edge of the bed, letting out a breath before reaching up to roughly wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

"That... Bastard." She grumbled angrily, scowling at the door.

Then using the nightstand, she carefully pushed herself to her feet. Finding more stability she took a step, then walked the rest of the way to the door. She could hear fighting outside, as well as the squeals of women in the building.

"I have to help Alistair…"

She stepped out, glancing both ways for enemies. Seeing none, she tried to hurry down the hall, when suddenly three armored figures blocked her path, blades in their hands.

She quickly reached for her own, only to find she had none.

"Blast it…" She breathed, taking a step back.

The one who appeared to be the leader gave her a dark smile. "A pleasure to see you again, my lady."

"What does Howe want with me?" She muttered hoarsely, narrowing her eyes.

"Your people are much more loyal than he thought. They are not taking kindly to his rule. But if he showed to them how truly weak the Couslands once were..." His smirked deepened.

"Weak?" Her hands closed into fists. "You think I'm weak?"

She suddenly charged forth, forcing the knight to lift his sword up in the narrow hallway. But despite her body's unusually slow response, she was still faster than he. She quickly brought her palm up between his arms, crushing his nose before she twisted her body, taking his sword from his hands.

She pointed the tip at him as blood flowed freely down his nose, mouth and neck. "Allow me to show you 'weak'."

He greeted his teeth, drawing the short sword at his hip. "Take her!"

The passage was too narrow for even her to swing her newly acquired weapon, so she rushed sword first, making the man cover himself with arm and blade.

She surprised him by climbing his body, using his arms to propel herself forth and landing behind them. She ran, leading them out of the corridor.

Alistair huffed as he was kicked in the stomach by the rogue, forced to back away from him. He gripped his sword and glared at him as he rushed forth, forcing him to block this time.

They had somehow taken the fight downstairs, as the occupants watched in awe, drinking ale and placing bets on a winner.

Alistair slashed again, this time with more force, knocking Zevran back onto a table. The impact broke the legs, making him fall flat on the floor along with it.

Alistair took the opportunity, kneeling over him with his blade at his neck.

Suddenly a man falling down the stairs drew both of their attention, along that of those around them. They looked up to the balcony, spotting the female Warden fighting the remaining two soldiers.

Everil stepped back, blocking each attack from one of the knights. Seeing him go for a thrust she tilted her head, the blade missing her by inches as hers found its way into the man's unprotected neck. Blood sprayed onto her as she quickly pushed him out of the way, forcing him over the railing to the floor below, his body landing upon the bar table.

The remaining knight grabbed the sword the last victim dropped, using it to rush at her with a cry.

She blocked the hit, her feet sliding back.

He was obviously no longer interested in taking her alive, as he continued to viciously attack her.

She scowled, docking a sideward slash before jumping on the railing, then jumping again with all her might. Her sword was extended as she twisted the top of her body, slashing the blade all the way through the man's throat and severing his head.

Red sprayed out of his neck as his body fell to its knees, then forward with a sickening thud.

The whole place grew quiet, whispers of the violent nature of Grey Wardens filling the air.

She craned her head to gaze over the small crowd of undesirables, her eyes briefly meeting Alistair's from above. He kept his blade pointed to the elf, the man who had been ordered to kill them both.

She couldn't tell if it was the drug still coursing through her, or if she was stressed to the breaking point, but she was sick of it.

They were risking their lives trying to save Ferelden, as well as the very people in the room currently judging them. Yet Loghain was constantly throwing obstacles in their way, allied with the man who had taken everything away from her. Still, there was no doubt this scene was about to bolster the rumors both traitors have spread about them, aggravating their already dire situation.

She numbly stepped over to the severed head, leaning down to grab it by the hair with one hand as she held on to the bloodstained sword with the other.

She knew that what she was about to do would likely bring forth more fear than respect, but she would turn this situation around on the bastards and build a new reputation.

And this crowd of sailors, soldiers, whores and townsfolk would serve just as well.

She approached the railing, lifting the head up for all to see.

"Know that I was dragged here against my will by assassins hired by none other than Teyrn Loghain! We Grey Wardens were forced to defend ourselves, against them and those who seek to end our lives in his name!" She told them with conviction, surveying the room as they listened, some with shocked stares. "Loghain claims we betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar! Well we say he killed our king when he rode off with his men and left us all for dead!"

A few gasps were heard, while others also grumbled protests. Leliana stood just outside of view, listening to her talk with a relieved smile.

"He may try to silence us by sending assassins to do his bidding, or using falsehoods to turn you against us! But know that we shall not rest until the Blight has been defeated and the false king brought to justice for his betrayal!"

She tossed the head over the rail, making it roll over the wooden floor below. "So let this be a warning to those foolish enough to get in the way of our sacred duty! Which is to save you and the rest of Ferelden from the Blight!"

She didn't know if it was the ale talking, but to her surprise, the majority of the crowd cheered. They slammed their hands and their pints against their tables, howling for her.

Zevran watched in amazement. This woman had been ill just moments ago, and she had still managed to fight off three heavily armored men on her own. The way she talked and her regal posture as she stood, covered in her enemy's blood while staring down at whores and men with cold blue eyes… it was arousing. He wanted to follow her, to be hers and hers alone.

Alistair watched her with admiration, and although he would have avoided using the head as a prop, his chest swelled up with pride at her words.

"Bring him out with us." She told him as she made her way down the stairs, the people around her watching her as they continued to cheer.

"Got it." Alistair gave her a firm nod, putting on a stern look to avoid showing everyone how relieved he was to see she was back.

He reached down to grab Zevran, roughly hoisting him up by the front of his leather armor before dragging him along, his sword still over his throat. Leliana hopped down the stairs, following the three out through the front door.

Once outside they met with the others, gathering in the alley as everyone turned a scrutinizing stare to the elf.

Everil turned to her fellow Warden. "You can release him now."

Alistair's head snapped in her direction, confusion etched upon his features.

Zevran smirked at him, recalling the deal he had made with her. "Yes, please do let me go."

He roughly shoved him forward, pinning him with a glare. "I suggest you don't try anything."

The elf chuckled in amusement. He knew he was out numbered, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least have his fun.

Everil then gave Zevran a smile that made Alistair slightly nervous, his chest tightening as she seductively approached him.

"That kiss must have softened you up a little…" Zevran shamelessly told her, a cocky grin on his face. "Did you want another one?"

Her fist then connected with his jaw, the impact nearly knocking him back as he bit the inside of his cheek.

He spat out blood. "I take it that's a no."

"You may have helped me back there, but no one kisses me without my permission!" She snapped, giving him a dignified look.

Alistair's anxiety completely dissipated, a satisfied smile spreading upon his lips.

"Fair enough." Zevran laughed lightly, trying to recover from the blow to his ego while also licking the blood from his lips. "Now that that's out of the way… May I make a humble request?"

"Make it quick." Everil said curtly, crossing her arms. He had spared her life when he could have easily killed her, the least she could do was listen to him.

"Let me come with you."

It was a request none of them expected.

Alistair quickly stepped in. "Not happening!"

She raised her hand to Alistair, effectively silencing his protest while giving the elf a hard look. "How could I trust you? For all I know, you could try to kill us in our sleep."

Zevran shook his head. "I couldn't go back to the Crows now even if I wanted to. They would do away with me on the spot for failing to kill you the first time."

"How do I know you speak the truth?"

"I was never loyal to them from the beginning." He chuckled, a smirk upon his features.

"They bought me on the slave trade for a few sovereigns when I was a child. I've been forced to serve them ever since. And let's just say there's not much fostering for loyalty when you're constantly abused and failing training results in certain death."

A sympathetic look flickered before her eyes, but she quickly hid it, probing further. "What do you have to offer?"

"I am a great lock picker, good cook, and your friend here can attest for my battle skills." He grinned to Alistair, whose eyes had murder painted all over them.

She sighed. They needed all the help they could get, and she wasn't about to turn it away when it was offered. "Fine. You can come along—"

"Everil…"

She sent Alistair a reassuring smile, then turned cool eyes to Zevran as he pointed a thumb at her fellow Warden. "But if you try anything, he will be the one to end you."

"Understood." He responded without hesitation and then took her hand, bending over to kiss it gently as he spoke solemnly against it. "I am your man to do as you wish. I will follow you till the edge of the world if need be. This I swear."

She tilted her head curtly, and this time she did not hit him.