Weeks passed in a flurry of activity. Thanks to sound strategy, reinforcements from the city, and the speed with which they defeated the Architect and the Mother, Vigil's Keep held against the darkspawn with relatively few casualties.

Rumor had it, in fact, that the most heated part of the battle was actually Seneschal Varel's shouting match with Sigrun, as she'd been intent on leading a force into the Deep Roads to pursue the fleeing darkspawn and had been furious when he forbade it. In the weeks since, the dwarf had grown ever more sullen, and Elissa suspected she would soon return to the Deep Roads.

Things had gone rather better for her other appointees, as both the Seneschal and their soldiers had only praise for Nathaniel and Oghren. The two had coordinated the Vigil's defense and attack brilliantly, and were now being lauded as heroes. Nathaniel had accepted the praise with modest dignity and grace, while Oghren was in a state of stunned disbelief. Oghren had, at least, found the nerve to write his lady since. Given the dwarf's talent for screwing up his life and relationships, however, the best Elissa could manage was a cautious hope that Felsi would allow him to see their daughter from time to time. As for the archer, Elissa's official recommendation was that Nathaniel be considered for his own command as soon as possible. While fairly new to the Wardens, he was well educated, seasoned, took well to responsibility, and had earned the men's respect and support.

Anders had been industrious since their return, tirelessly healing the injured and even assisting with repairs when he could, as had Justice. When not working, however, the two could usually be found in the library, seemingly avoiding all company but each other's. Given Anders' history, Elissa feared it was only a matter of time before he found whatever it was he was looking for and slipped away. She did, at least, have a few thoughts about persuading him to remain with the Wardens, but she wanted to discuss the matter with Alistair.

Sighing, Elissa affixed a seal to her latest official missive. She's busied herself with reports for Weisshaupt, responses to nobles' seemingly endless correspondence, overseeing repairs and the training of new recruits, and the myriad other tasks that vied for her attention. Yet every day she grew more anxious for a letter from her husband. She had written several times, once after each nightmare. Since the Architect's death, the creature had regularly haunted her sleep. Even now, she heard his voice echo in her head. You think me dead? How can you destroy that which lurks within each of you?

"Warden-Commander?"

Elissa started; she hadn't heard the girl come in. "Yes? What is it?"

"The royal carriage approaches," the meek elven girl said. "The Seneschal thought you'd want to meet it."

"Thank you; I do," she replied, getting up. "Will you please have a bottle of wine and some cheese sent to my chambers?"

"At once, my lady." With a quick bow, the girl bustled off.

There in the privacy of her office, Elissa allowed herself a goofy smile. "A visit is better than a letter," she decided. Trading her drab casual wear for a rich velvet gown with a front panel of fine silk brocade (hers courtesy of a grateful noble family), she took a few minutes to brush out her hair and apply a little makeup. "No. I am not ridiculous," she told her reflection defensively, and hurried out.

Her timing perfect, the carriage was pulling into the courtyard as she emerged, and her heart flipped as Alistair stepped out. He'd eschewed his usual heavy armor for soft brown leather in the traditional Fereldan style paired with a dark green cloak, appearing both regal and comfortable.

The effect was such that Elissa had to remind herself not to drag him upstairs by his silverite cloak-clasp, and his smirk as he caught her eye told her that the smug bastard was well aware of how good he looked. "Welcome back," she murmured, extending a hand as she stepped forward.

Grinning, Alistair took her hand. "So, do you remember that Templar we rescued from Howe's dungeon?" He paused, a sheepish look flitting across his face. "I mean hi! It's great to be back, well done with the darkspawn killing thing, I've missed you, you look breathtaking beautiful in that gown, and… Well, do you remember? I was hoping we could get work out of the way."

Elissa nodded in understanding, though she was sorely tempted to close the distance between them. "I do. Irminic, wasn't it? His sister is Bann Alfstanna Eremon. Has he recovered?"

"Yes and nooooo," Alistair replied. "He recovered well enough to return to his duties, but I'm told he still had problems. Last week, he took a, quote, 'unknown quantity of lyrium'. One of the healers was able to save his life, but he hasn't regained consciousness. With Wynne still off in Cumberland, Anders is reportedly the most talented healer in Ferelden."

"Which is probably why the Templars kept letting Anders live," Elissa mused. "Where is Irminic now? Will Anders need to travel far?"

"No, he's just in the carriage," Alistair said, gesturing behind them. "He made for a boring, and slightly creepy, traveling companion to be honest. But Alfstanna's been loyal and reeeeally helpful, so this made for a good excu… reason to come visit."

Elissa grinned at that. "I've missed you so much."

"Then might I suggest we drop the sleeper off in your infirmary?" Alistair replied softly, taking a step closer.

Elissa's smile broadened. "An excellent suggestion."

Thanks to a letter of explanation from the Circle, which they passed to Anders, dropping the unconscious Templar off took little time. Anders cast the man a mildly disgusted look, but promised to do whatever he could.

Thanking the healer, Elissa turned to Alistair and winked. "Race you," she whispered, and then she was off and running.

"Hey, no fair! Head starts are cheating!" Alistair shouted after his wife, but he gave chase. If a few whoops and wolf whistles followed after, they seemed neither to notice nor to care.

By mutual agreement, they postponed any serious discussion, and so the morning and early afternoon passed in a blur of love-making and idle chatter. Only after a short doze, did they discuss all that had happened while they were apart: from the Architect and the 'recruit that got away', to her nightmares and worries about various susceptibilities of the Wardens.

"So, how do we deal with this?" Alistair finally asked. "If there are other darkspawn that could influence Grey Wardens, then what do we do?"

"Blended groups, maybe?" Elissa suggested. "Nearly every Warden outpost employs at least a few non-Wardens. Perhaps their clear-headedness would protect us."

"That's an awful lot riding on a perhaps," Alistair replied doubtfully. "The biggest problem is that Wardens aren't typically known for listening when people disagree with us."

"I know, but I don't see a better solution," Elissa muttered, turning her face to his chest. She was silent for a time, merely listening to his heartbeat. When she eventually broke the silence, it was at least half speaking to herself. "I need to find Morrigan. If anyone might have an idea of where to start, I think it would be her."

Having nearly fallen back asleep, Alistair started. "What? Did I miss something there?"

"Huh? Was that aloud?" Elissa sighed, but decided to admit another part of what she'd been considering. "I want to find a cure. I'm glad to have been part of ending the Blight, but didn't choose this path. I want to bear your children; I don't want to die young. I want all these things I'm told I cannot have, but I was also told that the Blight could only end with a Grey Warden's death, and we know that wasn't true."

"Wasn't true with a lot of strings and a demon baby attached," Alistair pointed out, a sour look on his face. "I am also not agreeing to any more magical sex rites unless they involve you, me, and no one else."

"Agreed. I still hate myself for putting you through that," Elissa admitted, closing her eyes. "I'm glad we're both alive, but…"

"Stop right there. No buts," Alistair whispered, combing his fingers through her hair. "I'm glad we're both alive, too, and that's all that matters. Yes, I was disgusted, but I never hated you, so please don't hate yourself for it."

"I'll try," was all Elissa could promise. "And I don't know if Morrigan will have any answers, but she might at least have some ideas, which would be more than I have right now."

"There's also Grand Enchanter Fiona of the Montsimmard Circle," Alistair replied thoughtfully. "She used to be a Grey Warden, but was somehow cured of the Taint."

Elissa sat up. "What? How? Why is this the first I've heard of it?"

"Those are all good questions; sadly, I have no idea how," Alistair said. "She knew Duncan and my father, though. I even tried to ask Duncan what he knew, but he wouldn't talk about her at all. He just told me a Warden's duty is a grave matter, all that rot about not ever trying to wriggle out of it, and then scolded me for asking impertinent questions."

"But those are the questions you're best at asking," she teased, settling down beside him again.

"That's what I said," he teased in return, nudging her lightly. "Didn't go over as well as I'd hoped."

"As grim as a Warden's lot is, you'd think they would appreciate your gift for levity," Elissa muttered.

"Some of them did, especially before the Blight, but so many take themselves too seriously," Alistair mused. "Something to work on, maybe."

"Or maybe definitely," Elissa agreed. Heaving a sigh, she rolled away, slipping out of bed. "Speaking of work, we should really get up and check in with Anders."

"Ugh, so boring," Alistair complained, but he did follow suit.

"Physically speaking, he's as well as can be expected," Anders informed his monarchs, leading the pair to Irminic's prone form. "But the only way to find out why he won't wake up is to enter his mind. Given enough lyrium, I might be able to do that, but he's not a mage, so it gets tricky. Frankly, Justice might have an easier time of it."

"I'd think Justice would have a harder time connecting with a non-mage," Elissa said. "Or does this have something to do with how much time you two have been spending in the library?"

"It does," Anders said. "Justice should be able to get a sense of the Templar's mind without much difficulty. With any luck, though, he will be able to focus through his lyrium ring and actually reach out. I don't know for certain if he can enter Irminic's mind, but I do think he should try. I sent someone after him already," he added.

"I am here. What do you need of me?" Justice asked, entering. He listened closely while Anders explained, and finally sat beside the unconscious man. "I sense… almost nothing, but I will try."

Justice laid a hand on Irminic's chest, focusing until he began to glow, blue-white energy crackling along his skin. For a time, he was quiet, but discomfort flashed suddenly across his face. "I don't think…" Suddenly, Kristoff's body slumped over.

"Justice!" Anders cried. At the same time, Alistair exclaimed, "He's waking up!"

Irminic's eyes opened, but then they flashed with blue-white energy. "… this was a good idea," Justice continued. He blinked several times, breath coming rapidly as he struggled to reorient himself. "My… my apologies. What little remains of this poor man's mind latched on to me and would not let go."

"Well, that complicates matters," Anders said. "But thank the Maker you're all right!"

"This won't be at all hard to explain to his sister or the Chantry," Alistair muttered.

"We could always shrug and look stupid," Elissa muttered back, half considering it. "No, better to tell them that he's dead."

"And when Alfstanna asks that her brother's body be returned?" Alistair countered.

"Given the upheaval Amaranthine has lately suffered, I think she'd understand if we chose to light his pyre here," Elissa reasoned. "We can send a box of ashes."

"Perhaps Justice should have a say in this," Anders suggested.

Finally sitting up, Justice turned to look at the body he'd so recently inhabited. "It would be kinder if his sister believed him dead," he agreed. "So much of this man's life, his memories, have been erased by the lyrium. What little I can piece together does not improve my opinion of the Chantry."

"Does anything ever?" Alistair snorted. "Look, I won't say I like this. I'm not even sure I understand what's just happened here. But, if this plan is going to work, then Justice here needs to look less like Ser Irminic."

"I'll see to that," Anders offered. "A shave and a haircut should do well enough."

"All right and please look after Justice as he acclimatizes," Elissa requested, standing up. "I'll send someone to collect Kristoff's body. Sorry to run off again, but the king and I still have much to discuss."

"You're so formal," Alistair grumbled, likewise getting up. "I still have a name, you know."

Coughing to hide a snort of laughter, Anders watched his king and queen depart. "Bet you a sovereign that 'much to discuss' is code for 'a lot more shagging to do'."

Justice shook his head. "Crude, but… likely true," he decided.

Anders was reaching for a pair of scissors, but he paused to cast Justice an odd look. "Did you just agree with me?"

"They are married and have been separated for months," Justice pointed out. "Why should they not crave intimacy?"

"A fair point, and I guess you would know," Anders said. "Do you… want to take Kristoff's ashes to Aura yourself?"

"We should first ask if she wishes to be present for his pyre," Justice suggested. "I am uncertain if I should speak with her again. For her sake, it might be better if I did not."

"Do you have feelings for her?" Anders wondered. "And how short do you want your hair, by the way?"

"I remember Kristoff's feelings for her, and hers for him. I still feel envious of what they shared, but I do not want her for myself," Justice explained. He raised a hand to his head. "Strange. Kristoff did not have hair. He considered it a nuisance: one more thing to get dirty. I am inclined to agree with him."

"Bald it is, then," Anders said, trading his scissors for a straight razor. "So, let's find out if your head's oddly shaped."

"Would that matter?" Justice wondered, glancing at the razor. "I suppose I must learn how to use that."

"You'll get the hang of it soon enough," Anders assured him. "Along with eating, drinking, sleeping, and all of the things a living human body needs."

"I wonder," Justice murmured. "If all of that is true – if this body does require sleep – will I dream?"

"Maybe Irminic's mind will dream and take you with him," Anders suggested.

Justice was silent for a time, lost in thought. "I do not think so," he finally said. "I no longer sense the man as a separate being. He has become part of me, or I of him. I know not which."

"Huh." The mage fell silent, simply shaving Justice's head. While he worked, a servant came in to retrieve the corpse, and Anders began to breathe easier as the air cleared.

"Well, you're in luck. Your head's not shaped funny at all," he eventually pronounced, coming around to finish with the beard. "If it's mostly you in there, I wonder if you will need to eat and sleep, or if you'd need less of either or both. Should be interesting finding out."

"That is one word for it," Justice muttered. "Odd as this is, I cannot help but notice that you seem more at ease in my presence. I did notice that the stench was worse than I had imagined."

"It was pretty awful, but that's not why." Anders glanced up briefly. "I've been considering… options. I won't stay here much longer. Abbie wanted us to look after each other, as I told you. I figured you'd be willing to follow me to Kirkwall, but people tend to attack possessed corpses, so…"

"You have considered asking me to possess you," Justice cut in. "I had considered the same. But you seemed uncomfortable with the idea, and now it is no longer necessary."

"I suspected it had crossed your mind, but hearing you admit to it is something else." Anders reached up to rub his neck. "I hope you won't mind me admitting that I feel as if I've dodged a fireball."

"Likewise, I assure you," Justice agreed. "I feel… different now. I cannot explain what has changed, but it is disconcerting. How much more overwhelming would joining with you have been, I wonder."

"You wouldn't be the first man to call that overwhelming," Anders returned with a smirk. "There, all done. You look… good like this."

Justice looked up, catching Anders' eye. His friend appeared uncomfortable again, possibly even embarrassed, and his face was flushed. "Is there a problem?"

"No. I'm being stupid," Anders replied shortly, and then excused himself to find his assistant.

Justice sighed. Just when he thought a conversation was making sense, something invariably reminded him of how little he truly understood. He was weary of confusion and misunderstandings, and of lacking the necessary context to grasp mortal complexity. The promise of Kirkwall, at least, was a much needed balm on an otherwise trying day.

"Sorry about that," Anders said, all smiles as he returned. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Though Justice tried to coax an explanation from Anders regarding his earlier behavior, the mage simply would not budge, and Justice finally let it go. And so they spent another afternoon holed up in the library. This time, however, they were not studying about spirits and the Fade, but discussing their options for slipping away. It wouldn't be long now. Soon, they would sail across the sea to start a new, free life in Kirkwall.