This is the explicit version of this story; if you prefer non-explicit, please see There and Back Again under my profile!


Chapter Eighty-Six: *Foot, Meet Mouth

Even though it was getting late when we came to the well-lit area that I knew led to the gates to Orzammar, no one was going to stop. We pushed on, too eager to be out of the Deep Roads to camp, and arrived at the gates in the middle of the night. As such, they were closed and locked, but Duncan knew the secret to opening the complicated structures, and he showed each of the Wardens so we would all be able to do it in an emergency.

He explained that the doors were anchored by dozens of feet of circumferential metal more than a foot thick, which was melded right into the stone all the way around using some strange dwarven technology he couldn't explain. They were unbreachable even by ogres and magic, and to anyone's knowledge, the darkspawn had never managed to tunnel around one.

There were two very surprised guards, who looked like they'd woken from a nap, when the doors at their back swung open, and more than fifty dwarves and a group of Grey Wardens poured through. As previously agreed, almost all of the dwarves wore full helmets, so that Sereda and Gorim could pass unnoticed. Scrambling over themselves to welcome us back to Orzammar, one of the guards ran to get the captain, though Duncan tried to convince them not to bother.

The captain was less than impressed by the late-night disruption, but was polite enough when he realised who Duncan was. He urged us to head to the estate, which was not difficult to convince us to do, and we parted ways with the Legion. Kardol promised to come to the estate the next day, and went his own way.

When we finally reached the estate, we crept in quietly, hoping not to disturb anyone. We needn't have bothered – apparently gossip travels fast in Orzammar, and Mistress Leta was expecting us. She was in a housecoat and had her hair up, but despite that was her efficient, no-nonsense self. She had us leave everything except personal items in the common room, vowing to have someone take a look in the morning and clean what could be salvaged, burning the rest.

She organised us into lines for bathing in each of the three rooms containing a bathtub. With a sparkle in her eye, she informed us that no one would be sharing a bath that night, since there were too many of us who needed in there and we tended to take too long when we bathed with friends. I was impressed she managed not to look directly at Alistair or me while making the announcement, and was too tired to be too disappointed by bathing alone.

I was allowed one of the first baths – Mistress Leta made the others draw straws, but ushered me directly into a room with the water already drawn, and Sereda, after the requisite kneeling and bowing, was put in the room next to mine. It was probably sexist, and I didn't care in the least. I found a bucket and filled it with water, first just rinsing myself off fully dressed, before I peeled myself out of my now-wet leathers and did it again naked. I piled the destroyed armour in a corner – it was definitely going to need burning – and proceeded to use a washcloth and another bucket of water to scrub the worst of the filth off my skin. It had been more than a week since we'd used the rune-sink in Bownammar to clean up, and even that hadn't been thorough. The black water I sluiced down the drain was evidence enough of that. I washed my hair in the bucket next, using a harsh soap meant for that exact purpose.

Finally satisfied that I at least wouldn't have to sit in a tub full of filth and taint, I climbed in. The water was bordering on too hot, that perfect temperature where it makes skin tingle without causing too much pain, and I sank down into with a sigh. I didn't soak for too long – there were thirteen people who needed a bath as badly as I did, plus a mabari and a handful of golems who'd need to be scrubbed – so after a brief dunk, I scrubbed myself clean again, using the nicer soaps Leliana always seemed to find us, and then washed and conditioned my hair and got out of the bath. I left brushing my teeth 'til last – I'd long ago run out of toothpaste, but had gotten some baking soda from the kitchen and used that.

All I had clean were dresses and nighties, so I slipped into the nighty picked out by Mistress Leta and opened the door. I'd beaten Sereda out, and could hear the angry shouting of what must have been Oghren being forcibly bathed by Mistress Leta. Poor Alistair had drawn the shortest straw, apparently, and was going to have to wait to bathe last. I resisted hugging him and soiling my nighty, and instead headed to our room to wait.

I was exhausted, and as much as I knew I wanted Alistair, I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen before I'd gotten some rest; somehow, though, despite the fatigue, I wasn't ready to lay down and go to sleep, either. I tried, briefly, but the bed was too soft, the blankets too warm, the pillows rustled too noisily…I was up again in less than five minutes, trying not to hyperventilate. I puttered about the room, adjusting pillows and blankets and just generally wasting time, noticing all the while that the walls seemed awfully close, and were pushing in on me more and more as time went on. It was embarrassing, as I knew in my head everything was fine, but my heart rate skyrocketed and I felt short of breath; I had to escape. With a panicked squeak, I slipped out the door into the corridor.

I could hear all the commotion from the bathing rooms down the hall, and decided against going down there; I'd end up getting dirty again and needing another bath. And I don't want to admit that I'm too scared to lay down alone. Instead I wandered, eventually making my way to the library, where I chose a book somewhat at random and curled up in a convenient armchair to wait for everyone to be done.

Sereda joined me a few minutes later; she also picked a book, and sat staring at the pages without reading. We sat together in companionable silence until others slowly started filtering in. Bel came in, nodded at both of us, and tucked himself on the floor in a corner, not even bothering to pick out a book; Sten walked in and stood quietly against a wall, looking strange and uncomfortable without armour. Faren was next, followed by Duncan, Jowan, Anders, Gorim, Aedan, Zevran, Prince, and finally Alistair.

No one spoke. This is surreal. I ran my fingers through Alistair's soft, damp hair as he sat at my feet and put his head in my lap; I squeezed a hand here or there, but otherwise all was completely silent. Once everyone had settled in, sprawled on the thick carpet or various pieces of furniture, I finally fell asleep.

Duncan woke us once with ungodly screams, remaining confused for some time afterwards; Anders went in search of one of his sleeping potions, and once Duncan was out cold, we all settled in again. Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan found us there the following morning, waking us with a tinkle of laughter. All of us who'd been in the Deep Roads, with the exception of the golems who were apparently being washed in the dining hall, were there, blinking owlishly at the intrusion in our much-needed, rather uncomfortable sleep.

Grumbling and generally cranky, everyone rose and limped towards the dining room for breakfast. No one explained what had brought us all to sleep in the library when we had perfectly good rooms with beds just down the hall; I wasn't sure I knew, if I was honest. I just knew I couldn't stand being alone, and apparently neither could anyone else. I suppose it was just another puppy pile – on carpet in a library, but still.

Once everyone had been fed, we spent about half an hour telling the stories of all our adventures in the Deep Roads, and making introductions, for the benefit of Sereda and Caridin. Oghren wandered in after a while; the only one not to join the puppy pile in the library, he'd apparently passed out drunk in his room after being washed. I got the impression he didn't remember the bath – he wasn't angry enough – though clearly he should have suspected something, since he wore nothing but a pair of oversized trousers that kept threatening to fall right off.

They'd have to shave more than his back to call him an elf. I choked back a laugh, averted my eyes, and continued in the lively discussion with the girls we'd left behind.

It turned out they'd had some adventures of their own; Leliana had acquired a nug as a pet, unsurprisingly named Schmooples, and Solona had been convinced to do every annoying side quest in Orzammar that I remembered from the game, and then some. She'd agreed we would - eventually - escort Dagna to the Circle Tower, rescued a woman from Dust Town whose family had tried demanding she abandon her child in the Deep Roads, run the Lyrium smugglers who'd tried to take over from the Carta out of town, and made an agreement with Brother Burkel that she'd support his bid to open a Chantry if he agreed to run a school for Casteless children in Dust Town. And then she'd hounded every Casteless family in Dust Town to ensure they'd send their child to the new school.

Kardol arrived as we were all admiring Schmooples the nug - though I was fairly certain that, for the dwarves at least, admiring was mostly imagining the beast roasted on a stick - and he laughed with us as Leliana scooped her beloved pet up and carried him off to her room before anyone could go beyond imagining.

Given that everyone who'd come with us to the Deep Roads was still exhausted, we decided that we would petition the Assembly for a hearing the next day, and then boarded ourselves in and refused to answer the door. I had dreams of alone time with Alistair, but was interrupted by Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan, who dragged me off to talk privately. I shot an apologetic smile at Alistair as I was whisked away; he grinned and me and blew me a kiss when no one was looking.

It seemed being basically alone together had been good for the three women; Morrigan had never seemed to like Leli, but she tolerated her now, and Leli had stopped making comments about how she would 'fix' Morrigan's appearance. Morrigan seemed to have some grudging respect for Solona, while Solona and Leliana were giggling together like old friends.

The girls seemed concerned at how I was coping since seeing the broodmother, and I shuddered as I described my horror to them again. Nothing could quite compare to how disgusting, and smelly, and slimy that creature was, and how glad I was we had slaughtered it. And then I remembered having to fight more of them in Awakenings, and had to close my eyes and forcibly relax before I threw up.

Once satisfied that I was managing, and that being alone with all those men for such a long time hadn't damaged me in some way, Leliana and Morrigan wandered off, leaving me alone with Solona. The mage had a curious look on her face, and I waited silently to hear what she would say.

When nothing seemed forthcoming, and the pregnant silence grew uncomfortable, I spoke.

"Solona? Everything okay?"

She jumped, and I stifled a giggle. "Um, yeah. I'm fine. I just..."

I took pity on her. "You want to know how Anders handled it down there?"

She nodded, and I saw unshed tears glisten in her eyes. "He's never liked dark, confined spaces."

"No, he sure doesn't. But he was okay. Better than I expected, actually. Maybe it was having all of us there, maybe it's that the Deep Roads aren't quite as claustrophobic as a dungeon cell, or maybe it was just a facade to cover up his discomfort, but he did almost as well as any of us."

"He left me a letter, before he left." I nodded; he'd told me. "I haven't opened it yet. I...Do you..." She trailed off, looking helpless.

"Do you want me to open it for you?"

She looked startled. "Would you?"

I nodded. "I would, though I don't need to, honestly. Want me to tell you what it says?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Yes. Please."

"It says that he still loves you, and that he wants a chance to explain. There were circumstances you aren't aware of, things that happened before you met, that drove his behaviour; and rather than explain it, he tried to protect you from it."

She scoffed. "Excuses."

I shrugged. "Yes, they are. He was stupid, and he should have known better. That said, you sure you don't want at least an honest apology?"

"The circumstances…you know? He told you?"

I nodded.

"And what do you think? If it was you, would you forgive him?"

"I...no. Not exactly. But I'd feel a whole lot better about myself knowing why he did it, and knowing for sure that it wasn't about me. Wasn't my fault, somehow. Being a victim is worse than being an unfortunate bystander while other things were happening."

She was quiet, and I waited. She has to decide on her own. I won't push. But Maker, I hope she at least talks to him.

"I...need to think. And open that letter."

I smiled sadly. "You want me to stay with you? Or I can get Leliana, or Jowan?"

"No, thanks. I think I need some time alone."

She got up and walked slowly up to her room, and I watched her go. She looked eighty years old, and tired. I didn't blame her.

I walked through the dining room on my way to my own room, nodding to the collection of people there. Anders and Jowan were looking between me and Solona's retreating back with an obvious question on each of their minds. I shrugged. Not my place to talk about it. They were seated with Bel, Oghren, Sten, and Faren, who appeared to have initiated a drinking contest - at least, the dwarves had, while Sten watched with a disapproving stare. I assumed Duncan was sleeping, or maybe talking to Kardol or the messenger to the Assembly, and that Zev and Aedan had disappeared into their room to do what I wanted to be doing with Alistair. I wondered where Sereda and Gorim had gotten off to until I noticed one additional large bedroom on the main floor was occupied. I shrugged, hoping they knew what they were doing.

Everyone who'd been in the Deep Roads had shaved and had their hair cut, and all looked back to their normal selves. Most of the normally clean-shaven men had kept their facial hair short-ish during our expedition – I'd brought along my scissors – but they'd gotten scruffy towards the end; Duncan had been positively bushy, and I imagined he'd cleaned up some as well.

Morrigan found me in the hallway on the way to my room. The witch had waited for me, trying to look casual but failing; I wondered if she wanted something.

"Hey, Morrigan." Tried to keep my tiredness out of my voice, not wanting her to take it personally. "How were things here, really, while I was gone?" I raised my eyebrows.

She laughed. "'Twas fine. Putting up with the Orlesian fawning over that hairless bunny-creature was a trial, and the insipid Circle mage insisted on performing every do-gooder task she could find, but compared to being trapped in the Deep Roads with broodmothers, I do not feel I should complain."

I chuckled. "That bad, hey? I hoped…perhaps you might come to appreciate each other a little while we were gone."

She tossed her head, her hair down for once and somewhat wild around her face. "I suppose the mage has some merits; she taught me a new spell. It may prove useful against the darkspawn – or amusing against Anders, should he bother either of us again." She smirked. "And Leliana did offer me this in return for helping her keep the nug safe as we left Dust Town." She fingered a beautiful golden bracelet on her wrist briefly. I knew it was the closest she'd come to admitting she liked someone.

I admired the bracelet appropriately, and then looked at her speculatively. "Did you need something from me?"

"No, no. I…" she looked uncomfortable, but then steeled herself, drawing up to her full height with a sniff. "I merely meant to tell you I am happy you are back." She paused, looking away and flushing slightly as she realised how that must sound. "Because it means we will be leaving soon, of course. I am tired of this underground city."

"Of course," I murmured, squeezing her hand once, lightly. I knew she meant she was happy to see me safe, though she would never admit to such a mundane feeling. It made me feel warm and fuzzy, though I knew she would be mortified if I made anything of it. I resisted the urge to hug her.

She took her leave awkwardly, and I watched her walk away with a bemused smile.

I slipped into my room to find Alistair pacing impatiently. He looked acutely uncomfortable, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking my nose into his neck and inhaling deeply. He smelled like soap and man and that smell that was all Alistair, with not even a whiff of the miasma of the Deep Roads, and he felt like sunshine in my veins. I sniffed again appreciatively. Just his scent is making me wet. Maker, it's been too long. He settled his arms around me and rested his head on mine with a sigh.

"I don't like it here," he complained. "After everything…it's too dark, too close…"

"I know. Me too. I think that's why we all ended up in the library last night. Being together keeps the scariness at bay."

"I want to see the sky."

"Yeah, that would be good. At least I get the feel of sunshine on my face; you don't even get that."

He pulled back and grinned at me. "Happy to oblige, ma'am." The Starkhaven accent was back, and his grin turned into a smirk as I moaned softly.

I reached up, grabbing a handful of sandy hair, and dragged him down for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. His arms tightened around me, hands clenching in the fabric of the nighty I still wore; I wriggled against his chest, which felt hot and hard through the thin cloth.

Easing off, he gentled the kiss and softly stroked my back. I sniffed in irritation.

"Alistair?"

"Yes, love?"

"Make me forget?" Forget the Deep Roads and Branka's horrible death gurgle and the broodmother and the fact that very soon, one way or the other, we were going to lose the only father either of us had ever known…I tugged his hair, taking advantage of his gasp to sweep my tongue into his open mouth, enjoying the taste of him, strong and sweet and heady.

He pulled my nighty up, lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist. Pressing me against the wall, he released me with one hand and I felt him fumble with his trousers. I tugged at his tunic, pulling it up over his head while he ditched his pants.

His erection was warm and leaking against my skin. I gasped as he adjusted us and slid into my tight channel, clinging to him and sucking his lower lip with abandon. He stumbled back until he fell onto the bed, still buried deep inside me, and I was suddenly riding him, cowgirl style.

His hands cupped my breasts, kneading and tweaking; breaking the kiss, he pulled me to him and nipped at my neck. "I'm not…" he paused, groaning, as I started to ride him, hard and fast, "I'm not going to last. It's been too long…"

"Me either. Shut up and don't stop," I gasped.

He chuckled darkly, moving his hands from my breasts to my waist, then one of them dipped down further to find my hard, swollen pearl. I picked up the pace, slamming myself down again and again as he massaged it in time. I felt him shudder, knew he was close; I leaned back, pulling away from his hungry mouth, letting his length stretch and press into that delicious spot inside me. He thrust with his hips once, twice, and then on the third, pinched my clit between his fingers; I stiffened and came, writhing and undulating as he emptied himself inside me.

I collapsed down on his chest, panting, and he held me while we recovered. I rolled to one side and snuggled up against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and we held each other and talked and giggled like something out of a romance movie. Before long, he had other ideas, and his hands began to stray as he captured my lips in a soft, loving kiss.

We made love again, this time slow and soft, teasing and touching, drawing it out; when I came, with him buried inside me, pinning my hips to the bed, he gasped my name and came apart, his shallow thrusts prolonging my orgasm until I had to either stop and breathe, or pass out. We fell asleep, then, tangled together, sweaty, and sated.

When I woke, I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was hungry, so that was a good indication that it was probably at least lunchtime. I disentangled myself from Alistair, pulling my nighty on over my now-chilled body, and poked my head out our door, hoping to see someone who had stone sense and could tell me the time. No one was there, but a covered tray sat on a small table outside our door. Mistress Leta strikes again, I assume. I grabbed it and brought it inside.

"Oh, you brought food? Excellent."

I jumped, startled, and then giggled at Alistair's chuckle. "Not I. I'm assuming Mistress Leta. I wonder what time it is?"

"I really wish they had Chantry candles in Orzammar."

"What're Chantry candles?"

"Oh, you know, the ones with hours marked off on them. You can tell what time it is by which mark the candle's burned down to. They have a real name, but I can never remember it." He sat up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, and looking around for trousers.

I shook my head, pushing him back to sit against the headboard, still naked. I set the tray beside him and pulled off my own nighty, climbing up to straddle his legs. And then, also naked, with the evidence of his arousal growing between my thighs, I fed both of us, slowly, allowing the anticipation to build, while making small talk, and generally driving Alistair insane. By the time the last bite on the tray had been eaten, and I had meticulously wiped both of our mouths with the napkin, I was desperate. I couldn't even say what I'd eaten; it didn't matter, as his hazel eyes, pupils blown wide with desire, raked over my body. Before I could even respond, he'd lifted me off him, placing me down on the bed, and lowered his face to my core.

He brought me to one orgasm and then another with his questing tongue and dexterous fingers, but instead of sated, I was steadily becoming more and more desperate. I pulled his hair, tried to drag him up so he would take me, but he resisted. Finally, I pulled away and turned over, onto my hands and knees, rear end in the air, face on the pillow, and tried to be irresistible.

"Please, Alistair." I shuddered in anticipation and arousal, feeling my own juices coat my upper thighs.

His answering growl was feral, and he gripped my hip with one hand, lining himself up with the other, and entered me in one smooth stroke. I clenched the pillow with both hands and wailed my satisfaction as he filled me. I felt one hand on my shoulder, and he pulled me up to press my back against his muscular chest. His hips stilled, but he reached around and tweaked a nipple with his fingers, and I gasped.

"Is this what you wanted, little minx?"

I nodded and writhed in his arms, trying to grind myself against his erection. He circled my waist with his arm, holding me still, and I huffed my objection. He chuckled, his breath gusting past my ear.

"You tease me through that entire meal, make me want you, make me wait, and now you expect to be given what you want?" He flicked my nipple again for emphasis, and I twitched.

I'd have been frightened, if his tone hadn't been smug; I could hear him grinning. Two can play at this game, buddy.

I reached up, draping my arms up behind myself, one hand caressing his neck, the other fisting in his hair, and stretched, making my breasts jut forward proudly; I felt him throb inside me at the sight. And then I pulled out the big guns, and used my internal muscles to massage his hard length rhythmically.

He groaned and his hands gripped me tighter, and then he began thrusting, finally giving me what I wanted. Losing his patience, he picked up the pace, driving into me relentlessly, and I thrust back against him as well as I was able. Releasing his grip around my waist, he stroked a thick finger over my slightly-chafed clit; I squealed and came, twitching and shuddering in his arms, and with a growl he released himself, filling me yet again.

After recovering from our exertions, we lay, sweaty and dishevelled, his head resting on my belly. I stroked his hair, much longer than I was used to – apparently Leli and the scissors hadn't caught up to him yet – and he practically purred.

"I suppose we should get up and see what's going on."

"I suppose." I sighed. "Need a bath first, though."

He climbed to his feet and offered me a hand, which I took, groaning under my breath from the sore muscles we hadn't used in a while. He quickly dressed while I hunted for some clean clothes, finding a pair of panties and a linen dress. I took the opportunity while he was distracted to down one of the little bottles of healing potion I kept just for that reason, when I suddenly realised things were too quiet. I looked up to see Alistair watching me, eyes dark, a scowl on his face.

"What's that for?"

I tried for nonchalant. "Nothing." I shrugged.

"You expect me to believe you're taking a healing potion for no reason? Last I heard they weren't addictive, and you haven't been injured in a while…"

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine." I pulled the dress over my head to avoid making eye contact.

"Don't even try it, Sierra. I hurt you." The self-recrimination in his tone was obvious, and I sighed and turned to look at him.

"No, you didn't." I held my hand up to forestall his objection. "I just get…a little chafed, I suppose. I want you, need you – I swear the taint makes me insatiable – but it leaves me a little worn out, after. That's not your fault, and from what Zevran says, it's normal and it gets better with regular, ah, performances."

"You talked about this with the assassin?" His tone was irritated, and I sighed. He'd stopped calling Zevran that for the most part.

"No. He just…in Denerim, without me even saying anything, he gave me a potion after. So after a few days of that, I asked. He assures me it's completely normal to be a bit stiff and sore. Especially because of your Grey Warden stamina. And I actually like the feeling, but I don't want Aedan to notice. Because reasons. So I take a small potion just to ease the stiffness a bit."

He turned away, shoulders stiff, tension radiating out every pore. I sighed, and walked up behind him to press my face to his back and wrap my arms around him. After a few minutes, he finally relaxed a little and covered my hands with his own. "Never again," he whispered.

I pulled away. "Never again?" My eyes were wide in horror.

He turned. "Not like that. I'm just never going to hurt you again."

"Alistair, I am not some delicate flower. I'm perfectly capable of telling you if you go too far, or if something hurts."

"I'm not taking the chance. I can…I can be gentler. I will be."

I scowled. "Don't bother. Because if you're going to treat me like some porcelain doll, despite my assurances that I'm fine, then I'm not going to bed with you. You're either with me all the way, like I am with you, or not at all. I thought we were past this condescending bullshit."

I grabbed my toiletries and turned to storm out the door.

"Sierra…wait." He grabbed my arm before I could leave.

I glared down at his hand, then up at his face. He's making puppy dog eyes at me, damn him. "Let go of me."

"Not until you listen. Just for one second."

I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "I'll give you five. Better make it good." I crossed my arms under my breasts, shoulders hunched protectively.

"Look, I'm stronger than you. I don't want to hurt you, especially by accident, but I can't help it when I know you won't tell me."

"I'll tell you when – if – it's a problem, I can promise you that."

"And by then it'll have been too late, and I'll already have hurt you."

"Okay, let's just say that it's even possible you'll do something to hurt me eventually. Which I doubt very much, by the way. Is it going to be worse than breaking my leg? How about the Joining – will it be worse than that? Worse than a smite? I can deal with a little pain, if we somehow get too crazy."

He was still scowling, still upset. I sighed.

"You think you're so much stronger than me?" He nodded, looking confused. "You think strength in your arms is all that matters? Fine." I dropped my bath supplies, instead reaching for my spare armour. I stripped out of my dress and started pulling it on, piece by piece. "I'll make you a deal, then. If you soundly trounce me in a sparring match, you win and you can treat me like a porcelain doll for the rest of our lives. But if I can hold my own – not win, but make a real fight of it – then you drop this, right then and there, and I never hear about it again."

"I…if I'm trying not to hurt you, I am certainly not going to fight you, Sierra. Not for real."

"Put up or shut up, Alistair." I fixed him with a grim glare. He cowered back, and I sighed. "Fine, if it worries you, you may name a champion, coward."

"I'm not going to get someone else to try to fight you either!"

"Then I guess when you said 'never again', you really meant it."

"No, I-"

"I'm going to find us somewhere to spar. I expect you, in your armour, in ten minutes." I turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind me.


A/N:

Sorry for the slightly late posting - I ended up with food poisoning all weekend, and didn't get a chance to prep this chapter for posting on time!

Apparently butter chicken is a poos choice when your tummy feels off. FYI :)

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, my talented and fabulous betas.

Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone! You guys are really really good for my motivation. That said, please send me a review, let me know what you think!

Reviews:

5 Coloured Walker: I'm not sure anyone but Qunari have canons of any sort in Thedas - no black powder except Qamek. Glad you liked what I did with Caridin!

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: I'm so glad most people like Sereda. I'd like to think she's sort of sensible, pragmatic but not ruthlessly so.

Biorr the Old: Yeah, wish fulfillment is a good motivator to write fanfic. Here's how I'd like to have seen it end with Caridin, not just uselessly tossing himself into the lava...hope your fanfiic-induced diabetes recovers ;)

MelindaOz: Foreknowledge does rock, doesn't it? It's been fun getting to decide how they could do things differently knowing all the annoying, dumb stuff that can happen :) Yeah, I've read a few fics where Duncan survived, and I always though 'oh, fabulous, now he has to have his Calling, ugh.' And fanfic or not, this is meant to be a reflection of life...and life sometimes sucks.

jamesers21: Happy or not, don't die! LOL I'm glad everyone else liked my ideas as much as I did. I don't see golem babies in our future, but as much as animate stone can be, I think they'll be happy. Ish. Especially since there's no pigeons underground.

Reploid Avenger: Thanks! Sierra watched 'How to Train your Dragon'. That Hiccup has good weapon ideas! :)

Judy (Guest): Me too! Obviously :) Thanks.

LadyDragon1316: I'm glad you like my changes to canon. As for your critique, I don't toally disagree, though like you've said, there's a lot of stuff to get through, and voicing all of it would mean probably doubling the length of every chapter...also, a lot of what I leave out is in-game dialogue. Caridin and Sereda don't know anything about Sierra at this point, they've got no reason for their dialogue to change from in game. I'm trying to only make changes to canon when I can justify them because of Sierra's presence. And I dislike repeating chunks of game dialogue whole. So I tend to skip through...also, Sierra being the only POV means sometimes she's not involved in a conversation. I think it would be pretty strange for a lot of people why a random, relatively unskilled human girl is brought into every decision or conversation, and that would be weirder than describing outcomes instead of voicing every conversation. As for Oghren, in my head, he isn't going to open up to anyone, never mind Sierra who he's embarrassed in front of...so she's left describing his actions, since he's not talking. So I suspect that if voicing every conversation is what you're hoping for, you'll remain disappointed, because a lot of this story is essentially a diary entry when you're only seeing one perspective...

Jarjaxle: Glad I made you laugh :) As for Bhelen...wait and see ;)

Ioialoha: Glad you liked! I'm actually overwhelmed by the positive response to these changes to canon ;)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Yeah the deep roads are super creepy. Even pre-darkspawn I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been impressed...hope I portrayed adequately the darkness and creepiness ;)

Star (Guest): I'm glad you liked it! I enjoyed thinking it up, believe me :) I haven't thought too much about Kal Sharok...ugh, more dwarven politics!

limiculous: Welcome! I'm glad you can overlook the romance bits. This chapter probably wasn't your favourite...sorry ;) You're right, normal nolas wouldn't be enough to really cripple it, though all we really need them to do is force the Archdemon low enough for magic to get it...there's a plan in place, for that, that you won't see for...oh, 25 more chapters or so lol. Trebuchets would work, but they're not so portable. Same with ballistas. I don't disagree about polyamory...but it seems like most major cultures just can't get over it. Consider Andraste had a kinky sort of thing going on with the Maker and Maferath, you'd think that Thedas would be a little more open ;)

eriaaile: And thank you! I'm glad you're still having fun :)

thinkdragonage: Zev, plus foreknowledge, would be a pretty formidable opponent, don't you think? :) I so enjoyed thinking up my plans for Caridin...glad everyone else did too :)

InsidiousAgent: Yeah, Sereda's pretty convincing :) The Assembly is going to be fun! I think Sereda's probably progressive enough to be able to think past her immediate goals, but realistic enough to know she's going to have to take it slowly if she wants any changes to be meaningful, and stick. I suspect it'll take more than one generation to bring the dwarves to anything resembling equality or modern ideas...Ha, people from Thedas exposed to our culture is a story I've been thinking about when I'm done with this one, I admit...though I suppose the magic wouldn't necessarily come over. But yeah, if Thedas mages could master magic that mimicked other games etc...they'd be scary :) As for bola launchers, they exist, on a small scale. The ones I've seen look like crossbows mounted side by side, vertically. I did some research before I included them :) The same launcher could be used with nets as well, I imagine...

Ajp25: Yeah, well, suicide is pretty much always selfish, I have to say, and Caridin's was no exception. Branka had to pay for what she had done; if she'd been allowed to return to Orzammar, someone would have seen her as a role model. Or she'd have been used as a political pawn...so it's sad, sort of, but necessary, I'd say, regardless of whether she could wake up from her insanity (which I doubt). Yeah, so so many reasons to be happy to be out of the deep roads!