Author's Note: Argh, this is getting harder. I come up which what seems a brilliant idea. Usually I start with a punch line. I adore punch lines, If anyone has failed to notice. I do not state that they are always top-notch, I just like to start from there. And then there is suddenly nothing to flesh it out. Document, mind, both are blank. And as always thank you for reading and reviewing. Need it now more than ever before.

Disclaimer: Blah blah, not the owner of the characters, or Bioware, or anything, blah blah

As the group wound their way towards Denerhim their lives were settling in a routine as familiar as unnatural. Setting of at dawn, trying to cover as much ground as possible during the day, not stopping until sunset unless set upon. In which case they fought their way through. Pausing only to nurse their wounds afterwards. Each night Alistair spared with Elissa. She was still getting the worst of it, but was slowly getting better. Sten or Leliana made supper. Alistair usually did the dishes, he was an expert after all.

After the first encounters Alistair had been astonished to hear Elissa tentatively offering her help dealing with minor wounds, in preparation of Morrigans healing. Morrigan was delighted, exclaiming that she spent too much of herself anyway. Alistair did not believe that for a moment. Morrigan had her own agenda, of that he was sure. He did not miss the expertise the first time he witnessed Elissa extracting an arrow however, this time from Sten's back. Reminding himself to keep the peace he decided not to comment.

Alistair was well aware that the relationship between the only remaining Grey Wardens had started taking a drastic turn to the better. He had reluctantly let down his guard enough to share his doubts concerning how to proceed, and instead of deriding him as he had half expected, they had mulled over the options and possible outcomes together. Elissas grip of Fereldan politics clearly outclassed his own. If he had ever doubted her sanity, and, yes, he had. Those days were over. They both tactfully steered away from any subject that was clear to cause a controversy. All in all, they were doing alright.

He took no small pride in her continuing development as a fighter. Thankful that this at least was something useful he had to offer as a small exchange for the taint.

He well remembered the first time Elissa had planted a solid hit through his guard. He had had his thoughts elsewhere, but still. She had whooped with joy, beaming a smile at him that would have melted even a golem, bounding forward throwing her arms around his neck. He had unexpectedly felt himself wanting to be able to respond in kind then, truly he had, he had been startled that's all. And a bit apprehensive as of where her sword was flying. Anyway, before he had time to gather his scattered wits, Elissa had bounded off to throw herself around Sten's neck, no small feat that.

Sten had responded totally out of character, hoisting her up on one shoulder showing her off in mock praise while Leliana cheered, which he belatedly realised was what he should have done. Instead he had ended up pointing out some minor flaw in her move to cover up his confusion. Great! Sten had more knack for handling his fellow warden then himself. He felt so much better after realizing that.

And that was how he had ended up in the situation he was now. Elissa had offered to stitch up the slash from a grenlock blade he had received during their latest fight. The cut ran from somewhere down his cheek to his temple, narrowly missing the eye. And how in good grace could he refuse? Elissa would certainly take that as an insult. Truth be told, he still felt leery at the thought of having her with something sharp in her hands near any of his vital organs.

Too late now. She had fixed his head against her belly and was bending down with the needle.

"Stop your fidgeting and sit still." He could hear her sighing in annoyance "Sometimes, Alistair, you remind me of a stallion my brother once bought." Alistair decided silence was the best course, which Elissa seemed to take as a sign that he was listening.

"It was a gorgeous beast, a bay, spirited and well muscled with a gait smooth as silk." She paused, grabbing his chin even tighter. "Be still!"

"Sorry, I'm still stuck at the word gorgeous." He blurted, belatedly remembering she still had a needle near his eye.

To his immense relief she only laughed. "Never you mind. You're missing the point here." He could feel the thin steel piercing his skin. "My father counseled Fergus against buying. Something is wrong here, he said. The price is to low for such an animal, but Fergus would not be dissuaded."

She tied up the stitch. As she bent down to bite of the catgut he could feel her breath on his cheek.

"So, anyway, Fergus brought the horse home. Well pleased with himself. After a few days, however, the stable master came to him, reporting that the stallion was no good. It was bad tempered and skittish. Docile one moment, trying to take the head of the grooms the next. Even the best of them could not figure him out."

"Just what are you getting at?", he could not stop himself from asking.

She bit off another stitch. "Just you shut up and let me finish. And try to relax a bit. You've endured much worse."

That was true enough. He exhaled, trying to put the entire situation out of his mind. Didn't work very well. He was still acutely aware of both the needle and her breath. Ouch, teeth, snip snap. He shut his eyes, trying to make his mind completely blank.

"So they tried matching him up with the mares to make him more docile, to no avail." Elissa continued. "One moment he would be gentle as as a summer's breeze, only to explode the next. Without warning. Fergus was mortified. Hoping there was something that could be done to spare him from being ridiculed the rest of his life on account of that horse. There! We're done." Elissa released her grip.

Alistair gingerly opened his eyes blinking a few times to get the feel of the stitches. Carefully he turned to face Elissa. "Thank you."

"You're Welcome." she responded generously. "You'll still have to get Morrigan to heal it properly when she returns. But this way you won't have a scar after, unless you want one." She bent down to wash her hands. "The ladies may like it. Would make you look almost like a rogue."

He shook his head. "I think I'll pass. We'll be reaching Denerhim tomorrow. I'll ask Morrigan nicely, If I can manage."

"As you wish." Elissa suppressed a yawn. "I'm turning in now."

Alistair could not resist a final remark. "And the stallion ended up gelded, right?"

"Oh, no" He could see the satisfied grin on her face. "He was put down."

Alistair shook his head. he would never understand the wickedness of women, or at least some of them. "Why did I even ask?."

He could hear Elissa answering from the opening of her tent. "I was kind of wondering the same thing myself."