***

Our trip to the tiny village of Honnleath was unsurprisingly full of darkspawn and the saving of innocent people. After clearing the beasts out of the village and saving the little girl from the Desire demon, we took a well-deserved break back at camp. It seemed that everywhere we went led to our camps becoming larger and more elaborate; now we had a megalomaniac golem and horny assassin at our campfire, in addition to the loopy bard, the bitchy witch, the slobbering beast, the man who was as stony and cold as our golem, and the evil old woman. Oh yes, we mustn't forget the two dwarves who take our extra goods with smiles on their faces – one greedy, the other just daft.

Crowded, to say the least. Our meals were starting to resemble feasts and trying to get a quiet moment to yourself was impossible. Taking baths required a schedule now, so that the men and women could preserve whatever modesty they had. Well, what modesty some of us had. Zevran looked as though he'd be willing to drop his trousers right there at the campfire, for Maker's sake! And Morrigan barely wore clothes as it was, ew.

There was a bonus to having so many people about, though; shorter watch hours at night!

But this was the first night that we would share with Zevran and Shale, and we were all determined to study our new companions. I, in particular, wanted to know how Zevran learned to talk like women spontaneously shed their panties for him all the time. It was disconcerting and I wanted to learn.

I mean, learn how and why he did it, so that I could protect my lady's virtue. Yes. That's it.

Anyway. Where was I? Oh, yes.

Morrigan and Wynne had taken over dinner preparations tonight, refusing to let me help them with the food because of what I'd prepared last week. "You didn't enjoy the stew I made?" I asked sadly, wondering if pouting would work on Morrigan or just make her hex my socks again.

The disgust on their faces was hilariously similar, despite their usual contempt for one another. "The…stew, as you called it, was so appalling that I would rather eat roasted darkspawn than allow you to massacre another meal ever again!" Morrigan's voice was sharp but Wynne was nodding vigorously in agreement.

"Yes, Sten managed to fish us a lovely meal and what you made out of it…" Wynne paused, struggling to find the proper wording, "It was the most frightful thing I've ever tasted! Did the Templars teach you to cook? If so, I may need to warn Irving to watch out for attempts on his life through good deeds."

Now I was pouting, completely involuntarily, when another smart-ass decided to chip in. "Ladies, I would certainly desire to help in the production of dinner if you wish to relax," Zevran's silky tone made my ears burn in anger. "I was trained to cook by the Antivan whores who raised me; cooking is just one of my many…talents that you might wish to taste."

The look on their faces made me crow with laughter as they threatened him with wooden spoons and frozen bits of his anatomy. He winked at me as we sat on one of the logs surrounding the fire. "I know that you are unhappy with our lovely leader for taking me in, ser knight," he began, blunt, but with a friendly tone that made me instantly suspicious, "but I hope that we can work together to defeat these intimidating women together."

"Yes, who cares about Loghain or the Blight?" I smirked. "These women are much more of a threat on our lives than either of those!"

Wynne sniffed loudly, her chin held high as she glared down at us, while Morrigan flicked hot water at us both. "You men could not defeat us, even were we asleep," she sneered, "though I heard 'tis how you prefer to take out your enemies, Crow."

Zevran's smile was easy, but I could see the sharpness in his face, around his eyes, as he answered her, "Dear beautiful woman, I do not prefer to take my enemies out while they sleep, I prefer to take them to my bed first and then end their lives quickly after I've brought them pleasure. A wonderful way to die, no?" He stretched, resembling a cat, smug and superior over silencing us all with that one statement, and leaned back, arms behind his head.

"I wonder then, Zevran, why you chose to attack us out in the open rather than finding a way into my tent?" Aliara's voice was surprisingly close behind us and all four of us jumped, even Zevran, startled by her quiet entrance. I turned to see her leaning on a nearby tree, hair wet and a few stray water droplets sliding down the length of her neck to fall onto her clean white shirt.

I was unable to look away from the wet tendrils of hair sticking to that neck, outlining the sharp curve of her jaw. Her eyes were shadowed, but the corners of her mouth were turned up slightly, one dimple peeking out at us. I saw a glint at her throat; the fire's light glancing off the amulet I had given her after the Joining and my heart beat faster knowing she wore it even as she bathed.

Zevran had stood up and bowed to her while I stared, gracefully gesturing to the log we had been sharing as though it were some fancy throne. "My lady, would you join us by the fire to dry yourself? We were just discussing meals and pleasure and I'm sure that we would all love your input," the purr that his voice took on when he spoke to her made my blood pressure spike. I had almost enjoyed siding with him against those two evil women, but his obvious attraction to my lady made me violently jealous.

My mind rang with the implications of that thought. Jealous.

I was jealous.

I no longer thought of her merely as the only Grey Warden comrade I had, no longer the only person who knew intimately of Loghain's betrayal and of the huge loss I'd taken at Ostagar. She was all of that and more; she was undoubtedly the Hero I'd always wanted to serve, who protected the weak and watched my back as I watched hers. But still, she was more: she was beautiful and traded witticisms with me and somehow I had found myself drawn in by her inner strength and nobility more every day.

I…cared about her. I loved her.

She stood before me, dressed casually, hair wet and unkempt, none of the fancy clothes and makeup that I'm sure she had been raised to use in her past. Her cheeks were pink from the fire and her hands were as rough as mine from years of twirling blades and bashing shields. She couldn't compete with Morrigan's lush upper body, but her body was lean and muscled instead, and that appealed to me so much more that it was distracting.

It was even more distracting when I realized that she had taken Zevran up on his offer and was now sitting next to me. She smiled warmly at me when I welcomed her quietly. "Nice to see that you're back here in Ferelden with us, Alistair. Maker only knows how far away you were just now in your mind."

Her teasing was gentle, but I still flushed, hoping she couldn't actually read my mind as I sometimes suspected. "Ah, yes, Ferelden is a wonderful place," Zevran said breezily. "Beautiful women, handsome knights, and hot stews. It almost makes up for the wet dog smell that seems to pervade every town and city." He looked thoughtfully at the Mabari growling at him before adding, "Almost."

I grinned, finally gaining back control of my mouth. "Careful or we'll be stuck having Crow stew for a week, at least. That Mabari knows full well when we call him stinky, don't you, boy?" I scratched him behind the ears, my pulse beating quicker when Aliara reached over to pet him beneath his snout, murmuring words of affection to him.

I could smell the soap she'd used in her hair and I hoped beyond hope that none of the others around the fire would notice me sniffing her as surely as her war hound did. I caught the evil light in their eyes as I looked up and wondered what it would cost me to get them to shut up. Chances are it would be my soul or the very last of my cheese.

"I wonder, Alistair, how often in your Templar training you had a woman leaning over your lap. Do they train the Templars to spank you mages when you're bad, Wynne?" Morrigan's voice was a poor rendition of innocence, but Wynne chuckled nonetheless.

"Oh no, that's only if we've been very good," she demurred wickedly.

Zevran looked excited at that, "And just how can I become a Templar? I am quite good at spanking and taking beautiful women over my knee, so I have some qualifications, I am certain!"

I wasn't sure which of them I wanted to strangle first as my fellow Warden and victim of teasing practically leapt off of the log, nearly catching my chin in her haste with the back of her head. She laughed weakly, nervously brushing some dirt off of the back of her breeches, and I looked up at her with a lopsided smile. "This is what happens when you recruit from the bottom of the barrel, I'm afraid. Witches, kooks, and perverts."

Her laughter at that comment made me feel more at ease. If only she'd sit back down! "Yes, yes, you told me so, and all that," she raised a hand dramatically to her forehead, "I could have had pets instead, but no-o-o!"

"Oh, but you most certainly have pets here, lovely Warden," Zevran purred ridiculously. "I, in fact, will let you pet me whenever and wherever you want…"

"Hey!" I growled, not liking how she flushed again. "Try to have some respect for our lady, you…you harlot!"

One of his eyebrows rose and I knew that he was leading me into another trap, but I couldn't resist and watch him flirt with her. "Oh? How am I disrespecting her by telling her she can have her way with me whenever she desires? I can't imagine that you have offered the same. So who is the one being rude now, hmm?" His smirk was making me consider tripping him into the fire.

I knew I was redder than the flames I was sitting near, but I couldn't let him keep getting the upper hand with his perverse offers! "I think she has more on her mind than simple desires and I've offered all of the advice and help I can," I glared at him, "And I think I haven't tried assassinating her in the past month or two, either, imagine that!"

"Ah, maybe you should try it," he added slyly, "Fighting you, my dear lady, was a wonderfully distracting exertion. You are quite lovely when you're so focused on an enemy, precise and deadly." He sighed dreamily and I had to take several deep breaths to steady myself.

"Boys," Wynne said imperiously, "I do believe that if you wish to pee on something, there are many trees nearby you can use instead of our brave Warden. Do shut up or go find your tree."

I nodded, angry and distracted, and stood from the bench with a last pat to the dog. "I'm going to wash some of my clothes," I muttered, trying to avoid looking directly at Aliara as she stood silently by the tree she'd leaned against earlier.

I heard Zevran's seductive laughter as I gathered my laundry and stomped off to the nearby creek. What he laughed at or who he laughed with was none of my concern! She could enjoy his laugh all she wanted and his stupid seducer-jerk jokes. Why should I care if she found an experienced man like him more intriguing than a virgin failure like me? At least I'd be able to focus on the task at hand better if I wasn't busy mooning over her and her dimples and her damn caring. I could be her friend; I was already her friend! She was my friend and my closest comrade – I couldn't live without that, without her presence in my life, keeping me sane after losing Duncan.

Choosing Zevran to warm her bed wouldn't make any of those things less true, so I might as well get used to the idea now. I was mechanically scrubbing my dirty clothes in the brook, splashing myself until it was pointless to keep my current shirt on. I took it off, tossing it into the pile, and nearly fell face first into the water when I heard a small noise behind me.

"Uh, hi there," I stuttered, finding the subject of my thoughts behind me. Her hair was slightly drier now, the ends curling in towards her neck, and I couldn't help but stare again. Her eyes were lovely in the fading light, but I wasn't sure what her expression was supposed to be telling me. "I wish I was as good at reading people as you are," I filled the silence between us with a rueful desire I'd held for some time now. "Living in the monastery for so long, I think I just learned that everyone's got to mock me at some point."

I gave into my nervous habit and ran a hand through my hair, scratching the back of my head, and I was surprised to see a blush spread over her cheeks. Oh no, I thought, was I indecent? A little soggy, but probably not indecent. This wasn't one of those dreams where I was fighting darkspawn without any pants on, after all.

Aliara shook her head quickly and knelt beside my pile of drying clothes. "I don't know why anyone would mock you without cause or why you and Morrigan have to be so…snarky to each other," she sighed, "but I hope you know that I will never insult you, Alistair. I'm sorry you don't like Zevran, I know he attacked us, but I think he will be true to his word." She bit her lip and I really had to concentrate to ignore that. "Please trust me. If he turns on us, you can say, 'I told you so,' as often as you want and whatever punishment you see fit, okay?"

Her smile was tremulous and hopeful; I was stunned. "Of course I trust you, Aliara. I trust you with my life; you must know that by now." I was curious about something, though, so I couldn't let her relieved smile distract me. "But why did you come to ask me that? I mean, not that I mind of course, it's really…nice of you to do that," I faltered, but kept on, scratching my head again. "What I mean is: why do you care if Morrigan and I are snarky or if I like Zevran? Do you…do you care if they like me?"

I didn't know what inside me needed the answer to that question, but it was probably the same voice that had wailed at the thought of her blushing when Zevran kissed her hand. The part of me I was trying so hard to shut up. She was washing one of my shirts as I asked and I saw her scrub it a little harder than necessary, the blush still settled on her cheekbones. "You are the only person I trust completely, Alistair," her voice was quiet and sad and I almost wished that I hadn't asked, even as my heart soared. "I…I lost a lot when Duncan saved me in Highever and then I lost his guidance soon after that. You were the only person left that knew him, knew what Loghain had done, the only Grey Warden left that knew what it meant to be a Grey Warden…I need you, Alistair."

Our eyes were locked and I had my hand on her shoulder, worried at the pain in her eyes, but she continued, voice steady and clear, "I'm used to giving orders and taking command, well, as you probably noticed," we both had to smile at that, "but…I need you to know why. I-" her eyes shut and she took a deep breath.

"I don't mean to interrupt, Aliara, but Duncan told me a little about what happened at Highever," I couldn't let her hurt like this without knowing the truth. Her eyes opened in shock, but there was no condemnation there.

"That actually…makes it a bit better," she sighed. "I remember what you said to me by the river that day, when you asked if noblewomen were encouraged to go out in the sun," I ran my hand through my hair in embarrassment again but she chuckled. "I haven't said this in so long, though. I am the second child of Teyrn Bryce Cousland and Teyrna Eleanor Cousland." A shudder ran through her as she bared her soul to me. "My brother was-is, he is Fergus Cousland and he is the heir so long as he lives," she wasn't crying, but that didn't make this moment any less heart-rending.

"I was in charge of the castle as my brother marched to Ostagar with almost all of our soldiers; only my own and my parent's bodyguards remained. We were caught unawares. It was…a difficult night. Duncan spirited me out after my mother and I took out many of Howe's men, but not enough. Never enough," Aliara's whisper was haunting. "We didn't stop to break camp for two days, only slowing enough to eat and drink. Howe's men knew I wasn't in the castle and he knew that I was to be there…so I've kept quiet about my family name, in case he means to strike at our allies.

"You're…the only one I can speak to about this right now, Alistair," she was still whispering, clutching one of my shirts in her hands and looking into the water as though it held all of the answers she sought. "For whatever reason, you gave me the reins of leadership and I took them, naturally. It was never because I doubted you, but because leadership and the life of a soldier are all I've ever known and wanted. And unlike everyone in my life before you," a laugh fled her mouth helplessly and my body clenched with the pain of not knowing how to comfort her, "you've always looked at me as an equal in all things regarding war, I think. In everything. You've…just talking with you gives me hope that we can do all these impossible things we have to do."

Suddenly, her eyes were on mine again. "I hope you don't think I look down on you for not wanting the responsibilities of leadership or for anything else. I know you said you're a bastard, but that doesn't matter. You're a Grey Warden and so am I and I think that means that, more than anything else, we need each other as much as everyone else needs us. So don't…don't question why I care if you approve of my decisions or of our companions," her voice was slightly hoarse from speaking so quietly for so long. "Their opinions matter, of course: like Leliana or Wynne, I want them to respect me because they are good moral people…but you, you are the only one I can't do without. Just…remember that. Please."

I sat there, unable to move for the longest moment as my heart nearly burst from all the conflicting emotions she'd managed to provoke in me. Worry, fear, joy, pride, respect, love…I could barely think when she was near me like this, telling me thoughts and feelings that she couldn't share with anyone else. There was a wild hope growing inside of me and I didn't know what I wanted to say first. "I will always remember that," I heard myself saying, voice hoarse with emotion.

All of my clothing was clean, so there was no valid excuse I could use to stay here with her longer, but I was entirely unwilling to leave now before I'd said something important to her. She had left me with so much that I had to return the favor. "It was never you that I didn't trust," that felt too awkward, but I could work with it. "I just…I worry sometimes that the people we recruit don't really care about anything other than themselves and only barely care about this damn Blight. I mean, Morrigan? Creepy. I have this bad feeling that Flemeth sent her with us for something, something more than she was willing to explain to us. I don't think I could bear to watch you get hurt like that. To be betrayed by the people you invested time and trust in."

I had heard the phrase sparkling eyes before, but I never thought that made any sense until now. Maybe it's the reflection of the light on the water or something less magical than just her inner beauty shining through, because Maker knows I'm a bit naïve, but that's just so sappy, I was desperately trying not to fall victim to her eyes. Not doing so well there, lad. My inner voice was starting to sound suspiciously like Bann Teagan.

"I've never wanted to be responsible for anyone else," I told her, slowly, as we folded up my dry and half-dry clothes. "I was told…a lot of things about how I would never amount to much of anything. Isolde wasn't very happy having me around, thinking I was Eamon's bastard son." At her inquisitive stare, I laughed, "I… should probably have told you this earlier, but since we're heading to Redcliffe soon, you need to know."

"What do I need to know, Alistair?" Aliara asked me, her perpetually steady voice letting me know that she wouldn't be angry at me for not telling her sooner. Or that's what I hoped, at least.

"I've told you how Arl Eamon raised me, right? And that my mother was a serving girl in the castle and he took me in?"

"Yes, you did tell me that and…well, honestly, I was wondering what the catch was," giving me a sheepish smile, she shrugged. "I suspected your father must be important for a nobleman of Eamon's stature to take in a bastard as his ward. No offense, I mean, but nobles are all a bit, um…cold, in my experience."

I had to chuckle at that, though there was little mirth left in me at this point. "You would be correct. You've won the prize! Your very own Important Bastard! What will you do with him, I wonder? Maybe he's good as a coat-rack…"

Aliara snorted and patted the ground next to her, the night air chilly enough to warrant a need for combined body-heat. "I think I shall wring his neck if he continues to change the subject."

"Ah, an excellent choice, my lady." I paused, collecting my thoughts and wondering how best to say everything I needed to say, "He did that because…well, my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my…half-brother, I suppose."

The silence between us wasn't too awkward, considering. She was looking at me again with those eyes that were capable of reading a man's soul, though, and I was getting a bit nervous. What if she tried to keep me from fighting as Duncan had? To not be able to fight at her side, to not avenge Duncan and the Grey Wardens…it would kill me. I stared back at her, desperately praying that this wouldn't change anything between us.

"So," thoughtful and quiet came her answer, "you're not just a bastard, but a royal bastard?"

I blinked. That wasn't the response I was expecting, but she never was one for beating around the bush. "I've never thought of it like that. I'm going to have to use that line sometime, definitely."

She laughed and handed me a shirt, "Think it's getting a bit too cold out here for you to keep flaunting your abdominal muscles like that. Trying to give a girl a heart attack is rude, you know."

Did she like looking at me as much as I liked looking at her? Now there was a thought more stunning than being a royal bastard. I nearly jumped up and clicked my heels like a giddy lass getting her first dress. I might just have some sort of…fetish, with dresses. Must watch out for that. "Are you saying that I'm giving you a heart attack?" I dared.

Her quick blush was an answer in itself: "We can talk about how dreadfully handsome you are later, stop trying to change the subject."

I pouted, but obliged her: "I would have told you before, but…it never really meant anything to me." At her doubtful glance, I hurried to explain, "I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret. I've never talked about it to anyone." I slipped into my shirt to keep her from reading my face as I said that – she didn't need to know just how painful it was to tell her the secret that had ruined my childhood. "Everyone who knew either resented me for it or coddled me…even Duncan," my voice broke slightly and by the Maker, could she be just a little bit harder to trust with my soul, please? I'd tell her all those embarrassing stories of me covered in mud without hesitation if she asked.

"Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know as long as possible. I'm sorry," I felt…relieved and resigned at the same time. It had been so nice to have her trust and respect without her knowing the truth, but it was better for her to find out from me, so I could tell her that piece of information that had gnawed at my heart every day since the battle at Ostagar.

I felt the warmth of her hand on my back. "I think I understand, Alistair."

"Thank you for not hating me. I just…I should have told you when we got sent to that stupid tower or after, in Flemeth's hut, when I realized what Duncan had done. But…at any rate, that's what I had to tell you," I finished briskly, trying to seem confident and not whiny which I suspected I was a great deal of the time when I spoke to her of Duncan.

The hand on my back poked me, hard. "Alistair, of course I wouldn't hate you for not telling me. I had the option to tell you who I was when we first met, when you recognized…my coat-of-arms." She sighed and I wrapped one arm around her shoulders so that we sat comfortably, supporting each other physically and mentally. "So what kind of hypocrite would I be if I got angry at you now? I can't share your…bitterness at Duncan sending you from the fighting, though, I'm sorry. Maybe it's the noble in me – I try to beat her regularly, but still she nags at me," her attempts at humor were cute though generally a little bit frightening, but still I chuckled, "but keeping a possible heir to the throne alive is important. Especially with Cailan being…Cailan.

"I knew him, you know," she was clearly remembering the past, eyes gazing up at the sky, her neck white in the moonlight. Beautiful. "Fergus and I were forced to visit Denerim and take obnoxious lessons and get friendly with the future ruler of Ferelden. Fergus was actually quite good at all that," her grin was part fondness and part self-deprecation, "but even then, all Cailan - and I - wanted to do was whack things with shiny pointy objects. That was when my mother despaired of trying to make a match for me, I think. But yes, Cailan was all, 'Swords swords swords!' and I was all, 'Let's go attack our teachers!' and Fergus and Anora would tattle on us and Loghain would-"

We both tensed, at that. "How did he not recognize you?" I wondered aloud.

"For the same reason that Duncan sent you to that tower," sighing in resignation, she continued: "Fergus continued to visit Denerim regularly with my parents, but I was made to stay in Highever, because my father insisted that I be safe from politics and the maneuverings of the other arls."

I knew she saw my confused look, because she sighed again, "He was keeping me from being sold into marriage at fifteen, Alistair. I wonder now if he knew that Howe and Loghain were planning something, even if he didn't know the extent of their idiocy. He kept me from leading the troops to Ostagar, despite being a better military strategist than my brother, though he is the heir. Howe's soldiers couldn't recognize me in armor and didn't know enough to kill me first before the rest of my family." She sounded so bitter that I squeezed her gently. "Loghain didn't recognize me as we met face to face and Cailan kept my identity from him, I knew it. Cailan knew me almost immediately; we'd been friendly enough in our love for brave tales of adventures; the rebel King and the mighty Cousland." We chuckled, but she sounded so worn down.

"I, too, loved all of those stories," I admitted. "I always wondered what kind of man Maric was and why he never visited me. I hoped that it was because he was doing more great deeds instead of…just him not caring about my existence, I guess."

She shook her head, so intent to refute my claim that she bumped into my shoulder. "No, Alistair, having met him, I don't think that he could just not care. He was a good man, but kings have to do things they don't like most of the time. Well, all of the time, really. Cailan was always mad that he wouldn't be allowed to join the Grey Wardens, so at least be grateful that you've upheld your brother's dearest wish."

I smiled, feeling the knot in my chest dissipate as she responded in kind. "They're going to send someone after us pretty soon," I admitted reluctantly, "so let's move on and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

I knew I had gotten my tone wrong when she stood, abruptly tugging me up with her, and stared fiercely into my eyes. "That's not really what you think, is it?" Her voice cracked, harsh with emotion, and I wondered if I'd offended her.

"No," I breathed, steadying myself with my hands on her shoulders, "I think that I was lucky enough to survive…with you."

Somehow her demanding grip had morphed into a tight hug and I was holding her just as insistently. I would have to thank Zevran later; if he hadn't been such a prat, I wouldn't have gotten to have this conversation with Aliara and then I would have been stuck telling her with Wynne and Leliana listening in, as well. I wouldn't have learned about her life and the exciting possibility of embarrassing stories of her childhood, either!

The assassin was good for something, at least!