It was several hours after Wynne and the mages had finished working on Lhiannon that Loghain heard a soft knock on the door. Wynne had returned to check on Lhiannon and asked Loghain if he could see who was there. Loghain already knew who it was; the taint had told him. He quietly went to the door and opened it; to no surprise, it was Alistair on the other side. A scowl crossed the future King's face as he looked up from his feet and into a pair of icy blue eyes.

"You," Alistair spat, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice nor the blind hatred that colored his face.

Loghain was too weary to offer any sort of rebuttal, much less care, but had not moved from the doorway. That Alistair came did not surprise Loghain, nor did the future King's attitude toward him. Wynne looked up to see Alistair glaring at Loghain in the doorway. She quickly turned and moved toward the door.

"The two of you will not behave like anything less than gentlemen while you are here. The differences between you will have to be put aside. I will have both of you put out of this room, regardless if you are the future King," she glared at Alistair, who turned to her with an astonished look on his face. "Or a Grey Warden," turning her glare to Loghain, who kept his indifferent gaze on Alistair. "Is that in any way unclear?" she finished, arms crossed over her chest and waiting for their answers..

Alistair raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze back to Loghain. Loghain shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. Alistair returned his gaze to Wynne and nodded, which prompted Loghain to move from the doorway. Alistair watched him move with thinly veiled contempt.

"I would, however, like to speak with Loghain in private," Alistair began, not taking his eyes of Loghain. "Wynne, would you please excuse us?"

Wynne's gaze moved back and forth between the warriors. Alistair looked like he was spoiling for a fight, while Loghain stood there with a calm coldness. She was not sure this was a good idea, but Loghain sighed wearily and nodded to her.

"Our conversation will not be long," Loghain said, more to Alistair than to Wynne.

Wynne sighed and reluctantly moved toward the door. "Very well, but I will remind you both that there are several guards just down the hallway. They can be here in an instant if the two of you cannot behave like civilized adults. I will be just outside the door." With that, she left, pulling the door behind her but not completely closing it. She did not completely trust either of them. Maker help them both if they could not act civilized.

Alistair turned from where he stood by the door and looked at Lhiannon; really looked at her for the first time. "Maker's mercy," he breathed, running a hand through his slightly longer hair. He had been told that her injuries were severe but was not prepared for the fragile form he now beheld. Even in all their travels to this point, he had never seen her injured this badly. Lhiannon could always shake them off, laughing lightly as she picked herself up off the ground or bandaged her wounds. Alistair approached the bed and took her hand, holding it gently in his own for several minutes. He said a silent prayer to Andraste and the Maker before lowering her hand gently to the bed. He quickly turned to Loghain, his eyes narrowing.

"So, tell me, just how did you manage to pull this off?" Alistair said, crossing his arms on his chest and glowering at Loghain indignantly.

Loghain shook his head in exasperation. "Pull what off?" He had no patience for this. Couldn't he just say what he came to say and go? Maker's breath, his sanctimonious attitude was incredible.

"I met with Riordan after your Joining, before he left for Redcliffe; he told me what happens when an archdemon dies—the Warden dies. I know it wasn't Riordan that finished the archdemon and it obviously wasn't you. I thank the Maker that she still lives, but I would know exactly what happened."

Loghain was silent for a moment. He wanted to tell Alistair that it was none of his damned business, that it was a Grey Warden matter and since he had all but renounced his status as a Warden to be King, he was not privy to such knowledge. But Loghain also knew that Alistair would be here as soon as word got out that Lhiannon woke up, demanding that she tell him what had happened. It would be best to just get it out of the way now and spare Lhiannon the difficult conversation.

"Morrigan," Loghain said slowly, the disgust evident in his voice.

"Morrigan?" Alistair questioned, confusion coloring his voice. "What does Morrigan have to do with any of this? Where is she by the way? Not that I have any great wish to see her, but I would have thought she would be here being, well, bitchy."

Loghain moved toward the terrace door, not quite sure where to begin. "Morrigan knew destroying the archdemon would require sacrificing a Grey Warden. She said her mother told her that there was a way to destroy the beast without sacrificing anyone; that was the reason why Morrigan was sent with you and Lhiannon in the first place."

Alistair scoffed. "I knew both Morrigan and her mother were an archdemon short of a Blight. That still doesn't answer my question, Loghain. How did it happen?"

Loghain walked to the slightly open door, closing it quietly so as not to alarm Wynne. He then turned to look directly at Alistair, his face stony. "Let us drop our ranks for a moment and speak plainly. What I tell you does not leave this room. It does not go beyond the Grey Wardens. You do not tell Anora. She will hear it from me. If you do not agree to this, you would do well to conclude your visit and leave now. You can hear it from Anora later, should she choose to tell you at all." He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "Is this agreeable to you? Do I have your word as Maric's son and future King?"

Alistair looked at Loghain with narrowed eyes. Whatever it was Loghain had to say, it most likely was not good. Alistair's curiosity grew even greater. He could not wait to hear what Loghain had to say. "All right, Loghain," he said slowly, nodding once. "I agree; you have my word. Nothing leaves this room. Nothing goes beyond the Grey Wardens. You tell Anora."

Loghain nodded once, conveying his agreement. "Morrigan told Lhiannon that there was a ritual. Old magic," he sneered.

"And she performed this ritual with Morrigan? As a mage?" Alistair asked, one eyebrow rising and his voice conveying his obvious confusion.

Loghain turned his attention to the fire, staring at it intently. Alistair thought he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "No."

Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to hold back his exasperation. Loghain glanced toward him and wondered if Alistair knew how very much he looked like Maric just now. "Loghain, out with it already. What happened?" Can't the man just get to the point? Alistair thought in exasperation. Trying to drag more than two sentences out of Loghain was infuriating to no end.

Loghain took a deep breath and sighed. Alistair saw a look of complete disgust cross his face, as if he had stumbled upon a dead skunk rotting in the hot summer sun for several weeks. "The ritual required that Morrigan be made with child."

Alistair looked confused and he quickly shook his head. "Wh-what? Back that cart up. Made with child? You don't mean…" He looked at Loghain and saw the man was more than distinctly uncomfortable. Loghain looked mortified, something Alistair never thought possible from the man. Alistair turned away and sat down at the small table, his back toward Loghain and his head in his hands. Loghain watched as Alistair's shoulders began to shake and he thought he heard a couple of small noises. Loghain watched for another moment before walking around the table to face Alistair, not completely sure what the man was doing. When he saw Alistair's face, he saw why the man's shoulders were shaking; Alistair was laughing.

"Oh, y-you slept with Morrigan? That was the ritual? Oh Maker…!" Alistair could barely get the words out, so great was his snickering.

"Are you quite finished?" Loghain growled through gritted teeth, his fists in knots at his side. He felt the red anger beginning to rise within him. Even worse was the sense of indignity that rose with it. Loghain was not sure which was worse; the marsh witch's smug attitude at the ritual or Alistair's obvious enjoyment of his discomfort.

Alistair was still beside himself with laughter. "Oh, perhaps there is justice in the world. Sleeping with Morrigan must be a punishment for something! Better you than me! I'm surprised she didn't turn on you like a great spider and devour you after mating!" After a few more moments of giggling, snorting, and wiping away the tears that flowed down his face, Alistair finally composed himself. His stomach hurt terribly but it was worth it. Loghain scowled as he walked back toward the terrace door, fists clenched so hard that his nails left deep marks in the skin. What he would not give to be able to ram his fist into Alistair's face right now. The charges of treason might very well be worth it.

Alistair, now more or less composed, looked at Loghain. He took a great deal of pleasure in seeing the man looking so uncomfortable. "So why did you have to do this? What was the importance of getting Morrigan with child…?" Alistair nearly started snickering again, but quickly gained control of himself. "And what does that have to do with the archdemon?"

Loghain took a deep breath to try and calm the rage in his blood. "The witch said that when the archdemon died, the taint would be drawn to the child and purged. The child would be left with the soul of an old god, perfect and free of the taint."

A look of disbelief crossed Alistair's face. "Maker's blood! But why would she do that? Why would she want that?" His brows furrowed in concern, a look of revulsion crossing his features. "Was this blood magic?"

Loghain shrugged. "She said she would raise it as she saw fit and that we would never see her again. She was not forthcoming with details."

Alistair rose from the chair and walked closer to the bed. He brushed Lhiannon's cheek with the back of his hand. She was so pale and cold. Tearing his gaze away, he leveled it at Loghain. "Why then did you agree to perform the ritual? The real reason."

For a moment, Loghain did not say anything. Alistair was about to repeat himself when Loghain turned to look at Lhiannon and finally spoke, his voice so low that Alistair had to strain to hear it.

"Ferelden needs her."

Alistair leveled his gaze at Loghain, his eyes narrowing. He could sense that there was something Loghain was not telling him. He may very well have performed that ritual because Ferelden "needed her," but Alistair knew there was more to it than that. He would bet his life on it. Loghain was still gazing at Lhiannon; Alistair realized that his look was one of genuine concern, and maybe something more. Alistair's eyes widened as the pieces started to fall into place.

Loghain was the one that was with her when the archdemon fell. Loghain was the one who had refused to leave her side after she was brought here. And the look on his face…why else would he have performed that seemingly barbaric ritual?

"You care for her, don't you? After all that has happened?" Alistair asked guardedly.

Loghain whipped his head around to look at Alistair, his face set in stone. "She is my sister in the Grey Wardens," he snapped at Alistair. What exactly Loghain felt, or did not feel, for Lhiannon was none of Alistair's damn bloody business, future King or not.

"You do care for her," Alistair said slowly. It was not a question. He turned to leave, pondering this new revelation. How dare Loghain care for Lhiannon, after all he had done? Loghain was not fit to scrape the horse dung off Lhiannon's boots. When Alistair reached the door, he paused. When he spoke, his voice was low and ominous.

"If you hurt her, I swear by Andraste and the Maker, I will kill you myself."

Loghain had just left Lhiannon's room not long after Alistair's visit to stretch his legs when Anora came bustling around the corner, several bodyguards close behind. She threw herself in Loghain's arms, a small laugh of joy escaping her lips. Loghain glared at the bodyguards and waved them off; they hurriedly turned and left the barracks, closing the door at the end of the hall behind them. Loghain held Anora in his arms for several long minutes, placing a kiss on the top of her head and smoothing her hair as only a father could.

"I'm so glad you're all right," Anora began, pulling away from Loghain and looking up into his face. "I had feared the worst when the reports of a Grey Warden's death arrived at the castle."

"Riordan," Loghain said, eyes going far away for a moment. "We need to find his body. Give him a proper funeral. It was he who injured the archdemon so it couldn't fly."

"Consider it done," Anora said, moving off toward the door and giving the orders to the bodyguards outside. She came back to Loghain's side when she finished. "How is Lhiannon? Alistair said she was the one…"

Loghain nodded and indicated the door just behind them. "She's stable, but badly injured." He paused as he fought the lump that suddenly rose in his throat. "She was magnificent, Anora."

"I would like to see her," Anora stated, taking Loghain's hand and clutching it tightly. He led her to the door and opened it. Anora released Loghain's hand as she entered, moving over to the bed and looking down at Lhiannon's unconscious form upon it. She looked down at Lhiannon for several minutes, her face concerned. Loghain watched as Anora reached down and placed her hand on Lhiannon's.

"Thank you, Warden," Anora whispered, barely audible even in the silence of the room. Loghain stood at the end of the bed, watching the rise and fall of Lhiannon's chest once again. Anora took her hand from Lhiannon's and moved to her father's side.

"What is her prognosis?" Anora asked, turning to look up at her father's haggard face. Loghain quietly scoffed; that was his Anora—directly to the point, as always.

"The mages say it is in the Maker's hands," Loghain said, turning to look down at Anora, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He quietly scoffed and a corner of his mouth turned up in a small grin. "Lhiannon is a stubborn, determined woman. I learned quickly to expect the unexpected from her."

"Ferelden owes her a great debt," Anora said simply, turning to look up at Loghain. "I will grant whatever boon she wishes. She deserves no less."

"The Grey Wardens will need to rebuild their numbers; that will be a great concern to her," Loghain said, guiding Anora toward the small dining table in the room and sitting down, resting his elbows and forearms on top. Anora joined him on the opposite chair, crossing her legs and resting her hands on the raised knee.

"Perhaps I should give Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens," Anora began, nodding slowly. "They can use the fortress at Vigil's Keep as their base of operations." Anora turned to look at Loghain. "As your base of operations."

Loghain shook his head. "Lhiannon is the senior Warden in Ferelden now; it will be her that leads us, not me. I will not usurp her position," Loghain said firmly, holding up a finger for emphasis. Though Alistair had been a Grey Warden several months longer than Lhiannon, it was she that truly led them and Loghain knew it. Loghain suddenly chuckled at his statement; the irony of it was not lost on him. He grinned and winked at Anora. "We both know that never works."

Anora returned his grin and nodded, "Just so. Lhiannon will be Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden." Anora paused, her face becoming thoughtful. "As such, I believe I will name her Arlessa of Amaranthine. The Grey Wardens can use the resources of the arling to help them rebuild."

"Do you think it wise to directly involve the Grey Wardens in Ferleden's politics?" Loghain asked warily. From what little he knew of the Grey Wardens, Loghain knew they frowned upon being directly involved in such matters outside the distant Anderfels, not that it stopped them before. Getting overly involved in politics was what had them exiled from Ferelden in the first place.

Loghain paused in his train of thought; perhaps this was an opportunity. The leadership of the Grey Wardens in Thedas was at the far off Weisshaupt Fortress. With Ferelden having just suffered a Blight, and undoubtedly still needing to deal with the remnants of the horde, decisions would need to be made quickly. Having orders and information relayed to and from Weisshaupt would take weeks; Ferelden's Grey Wardens did not have that kind of time to wait before acting. They needed to act and govern themselves independently; perhaps Anora's decision would be the first step in that process.

"The Grey Wardens are already involved in Ferelden's politics, Father. Alistair is to be King; he is a Grey Warden."

"Speaking of your…betrothed…how are you and he getting along?" Loghain asked, concerned for Anora. When last he saw them, Anora and Alistair made no secret of their mutual distrust and dislike of each other. Loghain knew that Anora was a shrewd woman however; she would find a way to work with Maric's bastard.

Anora scoffed, a small grin lighting her face. "We are finding a small amount of common ground, Father. It has not been easy. He is a challenge."

Loghain grinned at her. "I have never known you to pass up a good challenge, Anora."

Anora giggled again before looking at Loghain, arching one of her eyebrows at her father. "And speaking of challenges, you and Lhiannon seem to be working well together now."

Loghain scoffed, turning his head to look at Lhiannon's unconscious form. "We have come to an…understanding…since my Joining." Loghain paused, not wanting to delve too deeply into what he felt for Lhiannon with Anora just yet. He also did not want to broach the subject of Morrigan, but knew he had to. He did not want Anora to have to hear the story from that fool Alistair. Anora deserved to hear it from his own lips.

"Anora," he began, turning back to look at her. "There is something you must know about the battle. We will speak of it now and I would ask that we never speak of it again. It must not be discussed with anyone, especially anyone who isn't a Grey Warden."

Anora's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her defenses beginning to rise. She sat up straight at the table, elbows resting on the top and hands clasped together. "What do you wish to discuss?"

Loghain told Anora of the conversation with Riordan in Redcliffe and the ritual with Morrigan. He did not go into all the details of the ritual; for that Anora was grateful. What she had heard was enough to turn her stomach sour however. "Lhiannon made you do this?" Anora asked angrily, throwing a nasty glance in Lhiannon's direction.

Loghain held up a hand to stop her. "No, Anora, she did not. I did it of my own volition. Lhiannon could not bring herself to give that order," Loghain explained, hoping Anora would not hold this Maker forsaken ritual against Lhiannon; that was not what he had intended.

"But why, Father? Why would you do such a thing? I do not like that you were maneuvered into such a position."

Loghain sighed, nodding his head. "We were both maneuvered there by a marsh witch with her own agenda. But, it did work. We survived. Now we can go about rebuilding the Grey Wardens."

"But how could you allow yourself to be manipulated in such a way?" Anora asked indignantly. "You are a pragmatic man; this is not like you." She narrowed her eyes at Loghain, looking at him suspiciously. Her voice grew hard. "Just what sort of 'understanding' did you and Warden Lhiannon come to?"

Loghain sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Anora, it is not…"

"You will tell me," Anora interrupted, her voice telling Loghain that she would permit no argument from him.

Loghain sighed, turning to look at Anora. He could just barely admit to himself what he felt for Lhiannon. He was not ready to admit such a thing to his daughter, the Queen, just yet. "Anora, she is my sister in the Grey Wardens. The understanding was to put the best interests of Ferelden and the Wardens first. That understanding has allowed us to move beyond the past and become friends." I can admit that much to Anora, at least.

Anora sat at the table, watching Loghain warily. She sensed that there was more to her father's feelings for Lhiannon, but Anora knew well enough that if he were not ready to discuss such a matter, he would not do so. It would be best to table this discussion for later. And they would have it later, she assured herself. She nodded to Loghain.

"Then I am glad to hear it," she said, holding her hand across the table to Loghain. He took it, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "You are the most important thing to me, Father, and I only wish to see you well."

Anora visited with him for a short while longer, before taking her leave to return to the palace. The repairs there were moving along nicely but she wanted to keep a close eye on the progress. Loghain watched her go; despite the difficult conversation they had, she had done wonders to help his melancholy mood.

Loghain was finally alone in the room with Lhiannon again. Wynne and Brenhin had just left after checking on Lhiannon for what seemed like the thousandth time and changing her soiled bandages. Wynne had admonished Loghain for not taking care of himself over the last few days. Loghain scowled and waved the mage off with barely a word; there were more important things to worry about just now. Lhiannon had still not stirred and the dread grew within Loghain's heart with each passing day.

It had grown dark outside. As was his ritual now, Loghain lit the wall sconces and fed the fire in the fireplace before lighting a desk lantern and settling in a chair across from the bed. Lhiannon had been laying in that bed for several days now, all her companions coming at various times to visit her. Loghain had been annoyed with the constant comings and goings, but kept silent. If he had had his way, they would have all been thrown out on their ears after a few minutes of visiting. This vigil was his duty and he would not shirk it.

Loghain was holding a book detailing the history of Ferelden and the line of Calenhad. He had not made it far into the book, finding the he was constantly reading the same paragraphs over and over again as he kept his vigil. However, staring into the book was better than just staring at the four walls. It was not long before he began to doze in the chair, the book falling against his stomach from his slackened hands and the lantern flickering on the table next to him. Had he not been so completely exhausted, he would have felt the slight tickle that brushed his mind through the taint.

A/N: This was a hard chapter for me to write. Not too sure why. Sometimes, they just are.

As always, thanks for the reviews/lurking/reading/bookmarking. Knowing that you enjoy reading the story as much as I do writing it makes my day! :)