A/N: My brother and I were discussing Sten yesterday. He doesn't like him since Sten always hates him, but I think that Sten has absolutely loved me every time I've played the game. So if he seems out of character to any of you, I'm sorry. He (and Zevran) are a little hard to grasp at times. Anyway, take care and enjoy!

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. It was difficult to believe that they had spent several hours the night before fighting to save the village. Birds had returned to the tree-tops and were singing happily, their voices echoing over the water and floating in the breeze. There seemed to be a certain kind of magic in those songs and the townsfolk were cheerier than they had been in days.

Ffion was the first one up and about from her group and she managed to snag a cup of coffee and escape to the wide porch of the Chantry. She moved over to a pillar that was out of the way and sat on the stone slab, leaning against the carved wood, with Tilly beside her. She tipped her head back and enjoyed the sunlight as it warmed her face. She was still tired and very sore, her arms and legs covered in bruises from Murdock's tackle and those hits that the undead had landed. Her bath hadn't been nearly as long as she liked because she had hated being cornered by Morrigan and Leliana. She took a sip of the coffee and stroked Tilly's ears as the dog rested her head on her thigh. Footsteps sounded behind her and a deep voice was saying,

"I'd like a word with you, Warden."

She glanced up and behind her to meet Sten's serious gaze. He was empty handed, but, like her, had already fastened his armor in place, the broadsword slung across his back. He stood, waiting for her answer, and didn't move around to stand in front of her until after she motioned for him to do so.

"I wished to commend you for your bravery and determination last night," He said abruptly, "You are a… surprise to me. You're not what I thought you were."

Ffion was baffled. She took another sip of coffee and then allowed her tongue to rule the conversation.

"Do I want to know what you thought I was?" She asked and her grey eyes sparked, the desire to tease him too great to pass up, "Or is this just your way of flirting with me, Sten?"

Sten was glowering at her, though he pressed on with his original intent.

"Are you trying to prove me wrong, again?"

"No, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You looked so serious and I just wanted to try and make you smile for once," She smoothed her face and added, "What did you think I was?"

"I told you when we met that you were impertinent," He answered matter-of-factly, "I soon realized that you are simply inexperienced and doing your best, which is impressive for one so young. I thought then that you were naïve. That is, I believed this until Alistair began talking more than any person has a need to and earning that title for himself. And last night, you were tireless and as stubborn as any of the fighters of the Beresaad, I didn't expect that."

This was the longest speech yet that Ffion had heard from the usually impassive Sten. She blinked in confusion, but felt her lips tip up in a small smile as she met his gaze.

"I'm sure that was meant to compliment me, Sten, and I thank you for it. But I have to prove my inexperience again: what is the Beresaad? You've mentioned it so many times and I've never had a good opportunity to ask you about it."

The Qunari was almost returning the smile and his stare was less intimidating than usual. He leaned against the pillar in front of her and appeared relaxed for one of the first times since she met him.

"The Beresaad is the vanguard of the Qunari people," He explained, "I was sent here to investigate the Blight."

"The Blight?" Ffion repeated, "Then our paths are the same. I guess it's a good thing I'm not what you thought I was."

"It is," His voice was cool again, "You have yet to change my mind completely. Don't get lax, Warden."

Ffion was really smiling now, one cheek dimpling and grey eyes lighting up even more. She wasn't sure if he really meant that and she was leaning towards the slim chance he didn't.

"And run the risk of disappointing you, Sten?" She said with mock horror, "Never."

This time his smile warmed his eyes a little and he gave her a solemn nod. At least she was gaining ground with him; she just wasn't sure she wanted to find out how big the sacrifice would be in winning his trust completely.

More footsteps rang behind them and Leliana's lilting voice was wishing them a cheerful 'good morning.' Morrigan and Alistair were trailing behind and the witch tipped her head in Ffion's direction before sending Sten a smirk.

"You look well this morning," Leliana was observing, tugging on Ffion's long, thick braid. She added quietly, her blue eyes dancing with amusement, "Back to your proper color, I see. I'm sorry about last night, Ffion, I was just so happy we helped these poor people and I felt like laughing. I wish you hadn't born the brunt of it."

Ffion tipped herself so she could glance up at the Orlesian. She felt the prickles of unease again, but didn't let that stop her from accepting the apology.

"It's fine, Leliana," She answered with a smile, "We all needed some sort of release."

"Is this a story I should hear?" Alistair questioned and seemed caught in that same need for amusement that the Orlesian was.

Silently cursing how quickly her cheeks flushed, Ffion got to her feet and took another sip of coffee in a vain attempt to cover her embarrassment.

"No," Her voice was short and she was trying to ignore Morrigan's soft chuckle. She added hesitantly, knowing it would sound more like Oriana than herself, "Just… girl talk."

The ex-Templar looked faintly disappointed, but his honey colored eyes were direct. He lifted his shoulders and spoke to Ffion,

"None of my business then. Teagan's waiting for us up at the crossroad by the mill whenever you're ready."

"Then let's go," She said, "As long as everyone else is ready?"

They all nodded and Ffion finished the last of her coffee and left the cup perched on the edge of the porch. They trekked back up the road and found Teagan standing at the edge of the platform by the mill with Ser Perth. The sails were spinning lazily and the whoosh in the air was rather soothing. The castle was more picturesque than ever in the morning sunlight, but without the soldiers on the parapets and having fought for their lives the night before, it was an eerie beauty. Save the birdsong from the trees, the air was still and rather heavy and Teagan didn't turn as they approached from behind. Ser Perth bowed to Ffion and moved away, giving them privacy.

"It's so strange to see this place so quiet," Teagan commented, knowing it was them without turning, "I've never seen it like this."

"So what happens now?" Alistair asked.

The Bann faced them and he appeared more his age now: his blue eyes were determined, but uneasy, and his jaw was set stubbornly. Ffion was surprised to realize he wasn't much older than Alistair and herself. Last night, his talk of duty and honor had made him seem much older.

"I'm going into the castle," He said and was speaking rapidly, not giving them a chance to interrupt him, "Someone has to… I have to. Eamon's my brother and I need to know his fate."

Ffion was frowning and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her grey eyes didn't leave Teagan's blue and she motioned to the castle behind him.

"But how?" She questioned, "You said so yourself: we can't get in."

The Bann was suddenly self-conscious. He glanced between all of them and then dismissed the others and fixed his attention on Alistair and Ffion again.

"There is a way to get in," He confessed slowly, "I am a Guerrin and this castle is my home. There is a secret passage leading from this mill into the dungeons; a passage known only to the Guerrin family. I didn't tell you this yesterday because… we needed help and you wouldn't have stuck around to assist us if you had known. And, of course, you might not have survived the trip into the castle, not with the onslaught we faced last night."

"And you believe you will survive now? Are you mad?" Morrigan questioned.

"The attacks come only at night," Teagan answered and looked on the verge of pacing, "That must have some meaning and I don't think - Maker, Isolde!"

There were hurried footsteps behind them and Teagan's face was lit up by shocked happiness. The others turned to see a very pretty blonde woman running down the road followed by a lone soldier. She was finely dressed and though her once immaculate bun was beginning to unravel, she held herself in a way that proclaimed noble blood and a privileged upbringing. At first, it looked like she was going to leap into Teagan's arms, but she brought herself up short and instead grasped his hands firmly in hers.

"Thank the Maker," She murmured, her face flushed with the exertion of running from the castle and her breathing rapid. Her Orlesian accent was thicker than Leliana's and her brown eyes drank in Teagan's appearance as though she never thought she'd see him again, "I had feared the worst and to see you alive… Oh, Teagan, this has been awful."

"Isolde, please, what's going on?" Teagan asked, "We thought everyone in the castle was… well, we haven't been sure what to think."

The soldier with Isolde was standing a little apart and he seemed to be giving them privacy much as Ser Perth was. The woman was close to tears and she still ignored the others with the Bann.

"You are right, in part," She answered, "Most of those that lived in the castle are… dead, yes. When they come alive each night, they only focus on the village. They have not turned their attention to those of us still living."

"So you and Eamon-"

"There has been no change in my husband," Isolde's voice was close to breaking and she gripped Teagan's hands even harder, "This… evil force that controls the dead… it isn't giving me much time. It allowed me to leave because I begged, because I had to come and try to speak with you, but I must go back and I… I want you to come with me, Teagan, please. This evil is weakening everyone and I'm afraid that… that it is driving Conner… mad. Please, Teagan, you must come with me. You are Conner's uncle and we need you."

Ffion's frown had deepened and she was stepping forward. She glanced between the two and cut into the conversation without waiting for an invitation.

"We're going to need more of an explanation than that, I think," She said with all the authority that she could muster.

Isolde pulled away from Teagan abruptly, startled by the sound of Ffion's voice. Her brown eyes flashed to the younger woman and her full lips parted in surprised insult.

"Teagan, who is this woman and the others?" Her voice was sharp and cold.

Alistair sighed and seemed quite used to the Arlessa's superiority. He met her gaze and stepped in before Ffion got her head snapped off.

"You remember me, don't you, Lady Isolde?"

She shifted her attention reluctantly to the ex-Templar and studied him before her expression cooled even more. She was truly confused now and she glanced at Teagan before answering,

"Alistair? Of all the people to… what are you doing here?"

"He's a Grey Warden, Isolde," Teagan was not the warm and amiable Bann. He didn't like Isolde's attitude and wasn't bothering to hide it from her, "And without him and these good people, we wouldn't have survived the night. But I have to agree with Ffion. We need more of an explanation. Like I said, we had no idea anyone was still alive in there."

The Arlessa paced away from them and then turned, her expression desperate. She looked on the verge of breaking down and her brown eyes were flooded with tears.

"There isn't much more to tell," She said softly, "Eamon's health has not improved while Conner is ailing. This is becoming too much for all of us and I don't have time to explain anymore. Whatever has been driving this was not content to let me leave and will not rest if I don't come back. Please, Teagan, we need you!"

That last bit was added as such a pathetic plea that Ffion was tempted to tell Teagan to just go. But something about the situation seemed off to her and she wasn't sure she liked him going alone.

"Teagan-" Alistair began.

"Okay, Isolde," The Bann interrupted and didn't look away from his sister-in-law, "I'll come with you, but give us a moment here, please."

She inhaled quickly, rushing to wring his hand again and smile tremulously at him.

"Thank you, oh, thank you," She breathed, "I will wait for you by the bridge. Do not keep us too long."

They disappeared just as quickly as they had shown up and Teagan didn't waste any of his precious time. He turned and addressed Ffion, speaking rapidly and giving the impression that his thoughts were working even faster.

"I will accompany Isolde and try to distract whatever this power is that she's so terrified of," He said as he worked something from his pinky finger. Stepping closer, he pressed it into Ffion's palm, "Take my signet ring. It will open a trap door in the mill. When you reach the courtyard, open the main gate. Ser Perth and his men will be waiting and they can give you whatever aid you might need. If anything goes wrong, get Eamon out of the castle. Myself, whatever soldiers have been left alive, Isolde… even Conner, are all expendable. My brother is the priority."

Ffion's lips parted to argue with him, but his blue eyes were stern and he didn't give the impression that he willing to put up with anything from her. She met his gaze and closed her fist around the ring.

"I understand," She replied slowly, "But I will try to save whoever I can, if it's at all possible."

Teagan smiled a little, a smile that was too grim to be pleasant, and gave her a bow.

"Don't get too wrapped up in useless desires to play the hero," He admonished, too touched to scold her firmly, "But I appreciate the sentiment. You're a good woman, Ffion, one I'll never forget. Good luck and Maker watch over you."

The Bann disappeared and Ffion was turning to the others with arched brows, the signet ring pressed between her thumb and forefinger.

"Do you need anything from the Chantry?" She asked the group as a whole and didn't allow her tinted cheeks to get the better of her. When they glanced at each other and then back at her negatively, she motioned to the mill, "Then let's go."

She led the way to the mill door. Ser Perth was standing to one side and she paused to speak with him.

"Be waiting at the gate, Ser Perth. As soon as we reach the courtyard, we'll open it. We'll need your help."

He nodded and then repeated Teagan's sentiment,

"Maker watch over you; over us all."