Neria looked on as Alistair ran through the gardens after a small, golden haired boy- his son, Jon. Not far away the queen was sitting on the ground, sewing, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting. She was laughing as she watched the two of them, but when she spotted Neria her enjoyment seemed to falter, though she still had a smile for the Warden-Commander.

The two women rarely spoke to each other, but they had both learned to accept the other one's presence long ago. Neria could not help but be somewhat jealous when she saw the queen and her family, avoiding them whenever she could, and in turn the queen never spoke of her with Alistair- for many years they had simply acted as though the third member of their marriage did not exist, a situation which seemed to suit everyone well.

Jon giggled and fell to the ground as Alistair loomed over him, tickling and prodding his sides. 'Some warrior you'll make,' Neria heard the king shout jovially, his voice booming across the courtyard. 'You couldn't even outrun a darkspawn!'

'I could,' Jon protested, his voice broken with laughter. 'I could if I wanted to!'

Neria coughed, catching Alistair's attention. The king smiled at her and pulled the boy up roughly, carrying him upside down as he giggled madly, brushing his hands across the ground. 'Go harass your mother,' said Alistair, dropping him by the queen. 'Elissa, will you watch him for a moment?'

'Certainly.' She smiled and reached out for Jon, pulling him into her arms. 'I want you to tell me the name of every flower in this garden,' she said, beginning to point to each one as Jon described it.

Alistair left them, coming over to where Neria waited in the shadows. She had been leaning against an archway but stood up as he approached, bowing slightly and saying, 'Your Majesty.'

'Warden Commander,' Alistair replied formally, though his eyes were twinkling. 'Please, come upstairs.' He pulled open a door sequestered into the stone wall- a secret passage leading up to the royal suite.

'I can't stay in Denerim any longer,' said Neria, once they were alone. 'I'm neglecting my duties.'

Alistair frowned and sat down. 'I thought you might say as much. Wine?'

Neria nodded and allowed him to pour her glass before swallowing it in one. 'How's Jon going?'

The gloomy look faded from Alistair's face. 'Well. The other day I found Teagan sword fighting with him in the atrium. He's only seven, but I can already see he'll be good. A fine successor for when the day comes.'

'You've named Teagan as regent?'

'Yes- I hate to say it, but Eamon's getting too old for it now. He's started forgetting things. The other day he kept calling me Maric. It was creepy.'

Neria poured herself another goblet. 'That's sad. I never imagined something like that happening to Eamon.'

'It is.' Alistair looked thoughtfully into his cup for a moment before setting it aside. 'When do you leave?'

'Tomorrow. I received some disturbing news from the Wardens in Orlais.'

'What was it?'

'They say that the Grand Divine has been hectoring them as much as the Grand Cleric has been hectoring us. I think that the Wardens will be part of what's happening in the Free Marches soon enough- whether we want it or not.'

'Terrific.' Alistair rubbed his eyes and continued sarcastically, 'you know, if you want to hear even more news I received word from Constance yesterday.'

'What did she have to say?'

'That if I didn't allow her certain privileges with the Wardens and with the state that she'd apply to the Grand Divine.'

'What?' Neria stared at him in shock. 'But that's an open threat. Assuming the Grand Divine even heeds her, it would mean bringing foreign troops into Ferelden! Is she mad?'

Alistair shrugged. 'Probably. She's pretty old. Besides, I think she's starting to lose faith in her own Templars.'

'What do you mean?'

'Just that the trouble in the Free Marches isn't limited to the mages. The Templars have been abandoning the Order too, or breaking from the Chantry altogether so that they can operate independently, seeing to the mages as they see fit. With varying results,' he added grimly. 'Some of them seem more lenient, others far less so. The events in Kirkwall seemed to have polarised them. Cullen's the only one who's still sticking to the rules.'

'Maker. Do you think the same thing could happen here?'

'I don't know. I can't say I like the idea of Templars running rampant across the country.' Alistair stood up and pressed his forehead to Neria's. 'All of this is giving me a headache. I wish you didn't have to leave.'

'Neither do I,' Neria replied. She leaned forward and kissed him softly, only barely pressing her lips to his. 'But we both have our parts to play. And they're important ones.'

Alistair grumbled and reached up, eyes closed, to pull at her hair, gently freeing it from the long plait she wore down her back. 'How long has it been since you cut your hair?' he asked absently, running his hands through the long strands.

'Two years or something. You should see Oghren's beard.'

'Ha!' Alistair opened his eyes and pulled away slightly, staring at her face. 'When are you coming back?'

Neria shrugged. 'I don't know. When I can. Probably not for a while.'

'I could order you to stay.'

'No you couldn't,' Neria replied, smiling. 'We Wardens are exempt, remember.'

'Well, maybe I'll listen to the Grand Cleric more often.' He leaned forward, his hands drifting down to the ties of her armour as he kissed her neck. 'I have a few free hours before my next meeting,' he said huskily.

Neria pulled his face up to hers and murmured between kisses, 'then let's not waste it, shall we?'

Alistair laughed, holding her to his chest as he backpedalled towards the door, locking it with a loud click. 'You know, I've begun to find beds a little conventional,' he murmured, staring hungrily as he tugged her jerkin away, throwing it across the room. 'What do you think?'

Neria grinned impishly up at him. 'Your Majesty- I couldn't agree more.'

Neria left the next day at dawn, slipping from beneath Alistair's arm without waking him. She dressed quickly and disappeared down one of the side passages, encountering only servants rushing to the kitchens- for which she was very thankful. She found her horse, Scrapper, in the stables, lazily chewing on some hay instead of sleeping, as though he expected her arrival. As Neria saddled him he seemed to regard her somewhat sardonically. 'Oh, shut up,' she said as she jumped onto his back. 'It's just easier this way.'

Scrapper snorted as though in amusement and together they passed quickly through the city gates and out into the countryside, taking the road to Amaranthine. As the sun began to pierce the horizon Neria knew Alistair would wake up unsurprised- she always left him without saying goodbye. It was their little unspoken agreement that made things simpler.

It was a two day journey to Amaranthine and when Neria arrived the next day she found Nathaniel waiting for her at the gate. 'Had any breakfast?' he asked as she approached.

Neria shook her head and he said, 'well, trust me, have some now- you're going to need it.'

'What's going on?' Neria asked, sliding from the saddle.

Nathaniel grunted and pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders. His hair was no longer as long as it had been- it was fairly short now and a dark line of stubble, the hint of a beard, lined his jaw. For nearly five years he and Velanna had been sharing rooms at the back of the compound. 'More letters from the Marches- the Chancellor of Hercinia is asking us to declare ourselves, so is the Chantry.'

Neria groaned. 'They can't be serious- the whole point of the Wardens is that we don't become involved in these things!'

'And yet we always seem to,' Nathaniel replied. 'I left those letters to you- everything else is taken care of.'

'Thank you. Maybe I will have that breakfast. And some wine.'

Nathaniel chuckled. 'Not even Oghren's started yet.'

'That's only because he's asleep.'

'True.'

Neria passed him the reins. 'Sorry, but can you take Scrapper to the stables and find someone to wash him down? I should see to this.'

'Not a problem.' Nathaniel nodded to her and made his way to the stables, leaving Neria free to go straight to the main compound.

Sigrun, always an early riser, called out to Neria as she entered the breakfast hall (as it was called in the morning, otherwise it was the lunch hall, then the dinner hall, and after that the drinking hall). 'Commander! How was Denerim?' she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Neria sat down beside her and reached eagerly for a side of bacon. 'Same as usual.'

'Ouch.'

'Not that that's a bad thing.'

'I guess. That king is a handsome man.'

'Mmmm.' Neria offered only one syllable answers to her from then on, too busy trying to quell her vicious hunger before returning to work. When she was done she stood up, wine goblet in hand, and pressed her hand to Sigrun's shoulder. 'Come by my office later and we'll gossip. For today, just see to it that the recruits can throw their daggers without poking somebody's eye out. Unintentionally, that is.'

'You got it, Commander.'

Neria rushed upstairs to her room and got changed, eagerly throwing off her dirty clothes from the road before going to her office, looking through the letters from the Chancellor and the Grand Cleric. Neria was almost positive that the latter was not penned by Constance herself- it was too polite- but the one from the Chancellor was written in a wild, scrawling hand that any seneschal would be ashamed of. She began drafting replies, emphasising the Warden's neutrality, until a more reasonable hour arrived when she could call up Varel and have him summon the senior Wardens. Varel was still just as prompt and energetic as ever, though he no longer carried a sword with him because of the weight, and had walked with a limp ever since the siege of Vigil's Keep, in the course of which he had nearly lost his leg.

It was almost ninth bell when the others arrived- even Oghren- and assembled in Neria's office. 'I know all of you are aware,' Neria began, looking at Velanna, Sigrun, Nathaniel and Oghren in turn, 'of what has been happening, and despite my allusions to the contrary the Wardens, it seems, will not be able to remain separate from it.'

'Nug-humpers,' Oghren grumbled, 'I'm tired of playing princess with all those Chantry sods. Dwarves don't have to worry about mages- let's just have at 'em and be done with it.'

'I agree with the dwarf,' said Velanna, looking somewhat surprised at herself. 'No good can come of siding with the Templars. If we do we'll only suffer under their presence further.'

'Not to mention we'll lose our most valuable recruits,' Nathaniel added. 'The Chantry has never harboured anything but distrust for the Wardens. I think this is the opportunity we've been waiting for, Neria. They're splintered, unstable- at the moment the odds are even.'

Sigrun shrugged, apparently unconcerned. 'What else are we going to do, Commander? It's not like the priests will play nice if they come out on top.'

Neria leaned back against her desk. 'I know- but the consequences of siding against the Chantry aren't exactly desirable. We could lose the support of the people here- we could just lose full stop, and that would throw the Wardens into jeopardy.'

'I think you underestimate your esteem,' said Nathaniel. 'The people of Amaranthine have been under the care of a mage for more than ten years, and they still support you. We've protected their lands from darkspawn, from raiders, given them food during famine,' he ticked off the deeds on his fingers. 'They won't turn against you.'

'Perhaps. Regardless,' Neria continued, 'I don't have the power to act alone. I'm sending out notices to the other Commanders calling for a meeting. If they'll agree or not is anyone's guess, but I need you all to be aware that things here will begin to change, soon. I want training hours with the recruits lengthened- double them if you have to. Just get them ready. I also want you to start stockpiling and have Wade resume full-scale weapon crafting and armour repair. Have anything superfluous taken to market.' She crossed her arms and clicked her fingers, sending out a small spark of energy that flashed viciously across the room. 'We need to be prepared for what's coming.'