With a heavy heart, Alistair left his room and crossed the main plaza toward Der Grau Greifen. He needed a drink. He knew he should probably have something to eat as well, but he had no appetite. He had expected the Council's reaction to Aedan's decision, but the derision that had been poured upon him for their relationship had caught him by surprise. They had never hidden their love, and it had not occurred to him that other Wardens might disapprove.

Lost in thought and with his eyes staring at the ground in front of him, he collided with a slight woman crossing his path, nearly knocking her off her feet. Hastening to apologize for not looking where he was going, he met the wide-set amber eyes of Adelheid, the archivist.

"Alistair, it is nothing. I can well understand you being…preoccupied after today's council. Are you going to the tavern?" He nodded. "You look like you could use a drink, and perhaps some company. If you would like to talk, I could meet you there in a little while…?"

He hesitated, unsure whether his mood was too sour for company but he knew so few people in Weisshaupt. It would be good to have someone to talk to. "I'd like that."

He went into the tavern and was greeted by the bartender, who brought a flagon of ale to his table, along with two tankards. It was not long before Adelheid arrived, smiling as she sat down. "It's refreshing to see you without all that plate mail on," she commented. "I couldn't help wondering why you come to the council each day dressed for battle."

He laughed and undid the buttons on his tunic, revealing the chain mail shirt underneath. "I'm still not completely unprotected. I know it's odd, but I feel more comfortable in armor; it's unsettling to be without it."

"Especially when facing hostility…I thought they were very hard on you, today. And unfair."

He shook his head. "It was very hard. But they're right. None of this would have happened if we hadn't fallen in love." He took a long swallow of ale, closed his eyes and sighed, then opened them again. "Aedan even said as much. It was…a mistake."

She frowned. "I think that the Council has forgotten what it is to be young. I am as old as they but I…have not forgotten. And you can't control how other people feel about you."

"But I could have discouraged him."

She shrugged. "Perhaps. But maybe without your love…Alistair, do you know the story of the Sacred Band of Carastes?"

He scratched his head. "It sounds like something I should have learned in the Chantry, but no."

"This was long before the Chantry, even before the Imperium, when Tevinter was a land occupied by many warring city states. Carastes was, for a time, the preeminent power among them, and the sacred band were the elite forces that protected the Magister who ruled the city. He had decreed that the sacred band would be made up of 150 pairs of lovers who would fight side by side All men, because in those days women did not fight in Tevinter, well, unless they were mages. For forty years they were the most feared elite troops in the land."

"What happened to them?"

"Eventually, the city was surrounded by Minrathous, and they were greatly outnumbered and overwhelmed. But the Sacred Band fought to the last man in an effort to protect the city. I am told there is still a monument to them in Carastes with three hundred names engraved on it."

His brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand,"

"The point is that love can be a strength, as well as a weakness."

"But if they all died…?"

"But they fought to the end, because they loved. It's hard to fight for Thedas, or for a country—it's too big to get your head around. People fight for what they know, for their homes, for their families, their friends, their loved ones. Aedan took Morrigan's bargain because of your love, but maybe if he hadn't loved, he would have failed long before. You faced death many times that year. When you were locked in the most desperate battles to survive, was it thoughts of Ferelden or the Grey Wardens that gave you the strength to hold on, or did you fight for Aedan and your other companions?"

"You may be right." He lapsed into silence for a while, pondering whether this might be true. The bartender brought bowls of stew and bread to their table. After a time, he said, "But it hurt to be criticized by the head of my Order. When I was recruited, I was so happy that I could do something. I wanted to be the best Warden I could be…"

"We are men and women before we are Wardens, Alistair."

"I was nobody before I was a Warden. Nobody except evidence of a King's indiscretion, something to be hidden away." He wondered why he was telling this strange woman so much. Was it because he was draining the flagon of ale so quickly, or just his need to talk to someone? "I never thought there could be a conflict between being a good Warden and loving Aedan, following Aedan."

She narrowed her eyes, studying him as she sipped from her tankard. "You couldn't have been nobody or you wouldn't have been chosen. You were special."

"I didn't feel special. I was amazed when I was chosen. I mean, I knew I could fight, but…well, maybe that's all it was. Skill."

"You don't really think that you got through the Blight on fighting ability alone."

"I don't?" He smiled. "Morrigan kept telling me I wasn't very bright."

She snorted. "Skill only gets you so far…courage, determination…even those combined with skill wouldn't be enough. And was not seeking the Arl's help your idea? As critical as some of the members of the Council have been, can you not see them measuring themselves against you, wondering if they could have done what you did?"

"Do you think so? It seems like all the First sees is how Wardens shouldn't fall in love with each other." He took another long swig of ale.

She sighed. "The First is…well, I doubt anything will come of his idea. And even if he set such a policy, I doubt it would be enforced beyond Weisshaupt. Each Warden commander has a great deal of autonomy. How do you think Aedan would respond if he received such a directive?"

He laughed. "But surely not all Commanders are like Aedan. He's never…well…"

"You might be surprised. The men who rise to command in the Wardens tend not to like being told what to do. Besides, if they start limiting the love lives of Wardens, where will it end? The aristocracy in the Anderfels would be most displeased if they could no longer marry into the Wardens."

He blinked. "Really? Wardens marry here? But they can't have children…or at least it's rare."

"True…but not every noble family can get a child recruited, and the families are lured to power as moths to a flame. Because the Wardens have clout here, there are…political marriages. Just as daughters are packed off to the Chantry in the hopes they will become Revered Mothers or even Grand Clerics."

He had never thought about how the political influence of the Wardens in the Anderfels might affect the lives of Wardens. They talked a little more about that as they finished their stew and nearly emptied the flagon of ale.

When she rose to her feet—a little unsteadily—he took her hand and thanked her for listening to him. "I don't know many people here and—you were right—I needed to talk to someone…"

She smiled. "It was truly an honor, Alistair. If you feel a need to talk again, I usually close up the library around sundown if you want to drop by." She touched his hand and walked away.