Had Elissa any inkling of the sheer exhaustion which she would encounter as the group travelled ever closer to Redcliffe, she would never have been so blithe in her lie to Leliana that night. Perhaps she might have even admitted the truth of the matter to the Chantry Sister and begged her advice on what to do. Certainly, continuing to hold her tongue did not result in any miraculous resolution between herself and Alistair. The two Wardens were as distant as they had ever been—maybe more so, given that Alistair had at least smiled at her when they first met at Ostagar. Basic civilities were observed between them and any joint daily duties fulfilled, but nothing more.

Yet it was the burden of the taint, rather than her estrangement from Alistair, which ultimately led to weariness becoming the constant companion of the young Cousland. Skirmishes with the darkspawn had become increasingly common as they journeyed towards Redcliffe and encountered the furthest reaches of the Horde, which now stretched from Ostagar and through the Wilds, engulfing the likes of Lothering and other settlements. Whilst it had long been accepted amongst the group that the two Wardens had a way of anticipating a darkspawn attack, now even the scantest proximity to darkspawn resulted in telltale twitches from Elissa. Her body was in revolt: her skin burned, her head pounded and her limbs weighed more than an ogre clad in iron armour. While the reaction fell short of that she had suffered in the Dalish ruins, the encounter with the tainted Eluvian did seem to have stunted her developing resistance to the unnatural call.

So it was that each evening in camp, Morrigan would craft a salve which helped to cool the prickling heat of the Warden's skin while Leliana would brew a foul-tasting concoction to ease the headaches. Although both remedies helped Elissa to remain functioning, nothing could block out the nightmares which haunted her. Distorted images of her family and of the defeated army played across her eyelids while screams of men mingled with the howls of darkspawn in her head. Some nights she would awake, gasping, to bloody fingertips from where she had clawed mercilessly at the nape of her neck, seeking to rid herself of this connection to corruption.

Tonight was such a night.

Wincing in pain, Elissa shuffled out from the stifling warmth of the tent she shared with Leliana and out into the sharp night air, feeling the tracks of her tears chill against her cheeks. Winter was definitely on its way. Fortunately Bodahn had already promised to have sourced all the necessary extra clothing for them by the next time they reconvened with him. All being well, it would only be another four days.

She nodded an acknowledgement towards Sten who was keeping watch at the edge of the camp before stumbling off towards the stream in order to fill her waterskin. Returning to the fire, she began the tedious process of warming some water so that she might clean the gashes. She had discovered that between a pinch of healing herbs and the rune which Alistair had gifted to her, the wounds would often heal within a few days. Just in time to repeat the process all over again.

"You may as well go to bed, Sten," Elissa yawned, wrapping her arms about her body in an effort to keep warm while she waited for the water to begin to bubble. "I'll keep watch for the last while."

The Qunari grunted his approval and moved off behind her in the direction of the tent he shared with Alistair. Near her feet, the Mabari let out a long sigh in recognition of the change-over, one ear twitching as he half-dozed. Elissa smiled. Keeping watch would have been a great deal more difficult were it not for the constant vigilance of the Mabari.

"Another nightmare?"

At sound of the voice, Elissa twisted round in her seat to face Alistair. Since the dull drone from the taint of her fellow Warden was ever constant when she was in camp, she had assumed the sound of footfalls behind her belonged to Sten as he made final preparations for going to bed.

"Yes," she admitted, trying to keep her tone from betraying the spark of hope that always ignited whenever he spoke to her beyond sheer necessity. She cast an eye over his dishevelled appearance; crumpled underclothes coupled with his tousled hair rendered her next question redundant save for the fact that she had nothing else to say. "Did you?"

He nodded, sinking down on the opposite side of the fire without further remark. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he kept his gaze trained on the glowing embers and Elissa saw little reason to disturb his thoughts. What could she say? They both understood that the nightmares were terrifying without needing to hear the details. Just knowing was enough.

So instead she busied herself with soaking a reasonably clean rag in the hot herbal water. Squeezing it out, she reached up to gently pat at the bleeding gashes at the back of her neck only to discover with a start that Alistair was watching her closely.

Hastily ducking his head, he redirected his gaze on his hands which he rubbed back and forth for warmth. "I would offer to help," he muttered, "but it just seemed to hurt you even more when we touched in the Dalish ruins."

"Oh," Elissa blinked, taken aback by the offer. Or half-offer, as it were.

It hadn't even crossed her mind that he would want to help. Her reaction to his proximity in the ruins seemed to have been an amplification caused by the Eluvian. His call, distinct from the 'spawn, did not bother her overly much. Perhaps she had developed some resistance to his specific call or perhaps the corruption of Wardens was weak compared to that of the creatures themselves. Whatever the reason, she knew it was not Alistair who caused this particular hurt.

Elissa summoned a small smile. "I can manage. I've done it a few times now."

"I know," he said quietly, his eyes drifting towards the Mabari.

Her mouth went dry and she had to swallow. But at least it saved her from trying to think of a response which would not draw attention to how much it mattered to her that he still noticed how well she fared. Maker only knew she worried about him as much as she ever did.

Regardless, Alistair did not seem to notice. "I know it's bad for you right now," he went on, still intent on the dog, "but is it getting any easier?" His expression softened and he risked a fleeting glance towards her. "Managing the taint."

Her first instinct was to insist all was well. Yet as she lowered the ragged cloth, now bloodstained, Elissa recognised the futility. He had asked because he already suspected the answer. What good would it do to speak such an obvious lie?

"Not really," she murmured, voice thick as she folded and then unfolded the rag in her hands. "Is there… should I be doing something to control it better?"

"It takes time."

"I'm just—" she bit her tongue, not wishing to complain about being tired when they were all suffering. Not one of them had escaped the toils of travelling.

"Tired; I know." His words were a gentle acknowledgement, not a harsh rebuke. The one thing which Alistair was in a position to laud over her and he never did: those six months of being a Grey Warden ahead of her, of learning how to manage the taint and its various effects, made all the difference between them and yet he never once remarked on it.

Buoyed by his compassion, Elissa allowed her gaze to fully settle on him and noted the lines beneath his eyes, the stubble across his chin , the way that his hair was no longer so closely cropped... She felt her brow furrow as she studied his profile. It was oddly familiar—and not as Alistair. He reminded her of someone in that instant. But then he shifted where he sat, leaning forward to rake at the embers of the fire with a wayward twig, and any curious incident of resemblance fled.

"Alistair…" she began, barely knowing what she wanted to say, "… I promise I didn't know about the Arl's illness. If I had, I would have gone to Redcliffe straight from Lothering."

Jerking his head up, Alistair fixed a bewildered stare on her. "Actually, I thought the fact that you chose to go to the Brecilian Forest proved that you put no faith in the rumours. It never crossed my mind you hadn't heard them."

"And now?

"And now I'm really worried," he admitted in a low voice, shoulders hunching. "It's been two and a half months since Lothering. If he was so ill then, what will he be like now?"

Elissa clutched at impossible odds. "We'll work out a way to help him get better," she soothed in desperation. "We need him to help us, so he has to be well. That's all there is to it."

He studied her out the corner of his eye. "You really think that's true?"

"We'll do everything we can, I promise."

Even though he nodded, it was clear that he remained unconvinced. She could hardly blame him: sheer force of will could not change the rules of nature. And her promises, no matter how well-intentioned, did not appear to offer him respite from his worry.

"You should go to bed," she said quietly. "No point in us both being more exhausted than necessary. You sent me last time; now it's your turn."

"Tiredness never killed anyone."

"Maybe not," Elissa conceded, "but impaling yourself on your sword because you fell asleep just might."

Whether he did actually find her comment amusing or it was simply his weariness, Elissa was unable to decide. Yet Alistair greeted the remark with a begrudging chuckle and she felt almost giddy at her success of having prompted something more from her Warden companion than a guarded glance or clenched jaw.

"I'll go," he confirmed, getting stiffly to his feet. He hesitated as he caught sight of of the red-stained water, finally looking at her properly. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

Oh, but if she had the courage to answer that how she wished! Although it was not as though answering truthfully had heralded much in the way of reconciliation the last time she tried it.

Elissa shook her head. "No, thank you. I'll be fine."

If Alistair suspected her internal battle, he gave no heed. With a short nod, he left her to the company of the Mabari and the fire.

However small and inconsequential a victory as his concession was, it did in fact become the foundation of an uneasy truce between the two Grey Wardens. Over the course of the next week, their strained association even stretched to the dizzying heights of occasional civil conversation. That it was stilted and fragmented was no matter: to talk at all with Alistair felt like a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. And Elissa was pleased to see, or rather allowed herself to fancy, that the strain across his brow began to ease a little too.

So when Alistair unexpectedly fell into step with her about three days south of Redcliffe, Elissa greeted his company with a warm smile.

He did not smile back. "It was important to you, wasn't it?"

Taken aback by his brusqueness, Elissa did not respond immediately. "A lot of things are important to me," she countered eventually, clearing her throat. "What in particular do you mean?"

"Marrying into the right family."

Her eyes widened as her mouth rounded in shock. This was certainly not a conversation which dwelled on the inconsequential topics to which they had so recently limited themselves.

"It was important insomuch as it was expected from me," she replied, more sharply than she would have liked.

Her answer did not satisfy him, nor did her tone discourage him. "But it was also what you expected, wasn't it? To have that power and prestige," he continued to wheedle.

Were it not for the fact that he looked about as pleased to be pursuing this conversation as she felt at being pursued to partake in it, Elissa might have lost her temper. But there was a hint of wretchedness in his features which could not be explained by the taint or their travels. For whatever reason, and Maker only knew why, this was important to him.

"I… I suppose you're right," she admitted at last, taking a steadying breath. She sensed that remaining silent would only prove more damaging. "Power, privilege, prestige: it's something I always had and I always expected to have, one way or another. What my father did… it made sense to me, even if hurt my pride. While I didn't like the means, I valued the end result."

He must have sensed her agitation because he did not respond immediately and they walked for a long while without speaking a word. But since Alistair offered no further means by which to continue the conversation, it was apparent that her answer had not pacified him. Even so, there was no way Elissa could have prepared herself for his next question.

"What if you hadn't liked him?"

It succeeded in bringing her up short. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

His cheeks were aglow but nevertheless, Alistair pressed on. "If you hadn't liked the suitor, or maybe only liked him as a friend, but he was from a prestigious family, what would you have done?"

That was it. Catching Alistair by the crook of his elbow, Elissa forced him into a halt as the others carried on ahead of them.

"I already told you my parents wouldn't have forced a match," she replied cagily, referring to the conversation which had occurred between herself, Alistair and Leliana around the Dalish camp fire. She had joked about Fergus teasing her that she would be forced to return to her new husband's home on the back of a cow. "They would have respected my wishes."

"But what would you do?"

Elissa stared at him. "Do?" she repeated at last. "My family are…" her voice caught and she had to take a moment to steady herself. "I'm the last Cousland but I'm a Grey Warden; all my family lands and titles are forfeit. Or so Duncan said." She pressed her lips together as she regarded him, thoroughly confused—and more than a little hurt that he would force her to acknowledge those things out loud. "So if you were planning to marry me off to some nobleman in order to gain some extra troops from somewhere, it won't work."

Blowing his cheeks out, Alistair shook his head in sudden irritation at her answer. "You know what I meant. Done; what would you have done?"

A terse silence reigned between them—and it was finally answer enough. In that moment, both acknowledged exactly what she would have done: courted a man she did not favour solely for the influence and status that he could give her. Titles were seductive, even if men were not.

"Right." A flush had begun to creep across his cheeks and he made to disentangle himself from her grip. "Stupid question. None of my business. Sorry I asked."

Ignoring his floundering, Elissa released her hold on him without protest. She did, however, remark quietly, "just like you."

He stilled in an instant, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "What?"

"You couldn't have known the man Duncan was, yet you agreed to go with him because of his power and prestige."

"He conscripted me!" Alistair glared at her. "It's completely different!

Elissa bit down on her lip, not wishing to push the matter. True, his recruitment into the Grey Wardens was not something which Alistair could have challenged, even if he had been motivated to do so. Regardless, he had gone willingly, keen to be rid of the shackles of the Chantry despite not knowing into what he was headed.

Shaking his head, Alistair muttered something beneath his breath before heading to catch up with the others. Trailing behind, Elissa did her best to make sense of what had provoked him to insist upon such a conversation. She failed—miserably.

The two young Wardens did not speak to one another again prior to reaching Redcliffe.

Much was awry in Redcliffe. Upon nearing the road which led down into the village itself, a dishevelled young man by the name of Tomas accosted the group of companions, insisting that they speak first with Bann Teagan Guerrin before proceeding to Castle Redcliffe. When Tomas led the newcomers into the small village chantry, the Bann had seemed at first perplexed to receive any newcomers but his demeanour changed after belatedly recognising Bryce Cousland's youngest and then Alistair.

When pressed on details, he revealed the whole sorry mess which faced the villagers. The illness of the Arl had only been the beginning in an exceedingly bad run of fortune. A short while after the Redcliffe knights had been despatched by the Arlessa to retrieve information regarding the location of Andraste's Ashes, the castle had become overrun by a host of the undead. The creatures would pour forth each night to ransack the village but had so far failed to subdue the resistance of the villagers. It was a close thing however and the Bann feared that the village would be overwhelmed after another night, maybe two. Of the welfare of the Arl, his wife and their young son Connor, Bann Teagan had heard no news.

At which point in the tale, Elissa cast a surreptitious look towards Alistair. He said nothing. Not that he needed to: even in the reverent gloom of the Chantry, she could see the way his brows drew together as his jaw clenched. This was his childhood home, after all. She expected that he would be keen to defend it. Just as she had been keen to defend Highever. No disagreement between them would ever permit her to stand in the way of that.

"We'll help you fight," she announced to the Bann.

From behind, Leliana leant forward and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Elissa," she spoke softly, "if the undead come from the castle at night, then that would be the best time to search for the Arl, no?" She moved so that she was within Elissa's eyeline. "You and I may step lightly enough that we pass any enemy without notice. While they," she gestured to their three companions and the Mabari, "remain to help defend the village, we can investigate the cause and locate the Arl."

"No, we need to stay—"

"t'would be foolish to waste our time fighting against an inevitability," interjected Morrigan.

"It's not an inev—"

"Elissa."

As irritated as she was to be interrupted for a second time, Elissa was glad to hear that Alistair had at last found his voice. Looking towards her fellow Warden, she fully expected to see a determined man willing to advocate the defence of his home. Instead, he looked troubled.

An unspoken agreement between them had the two Wardens retreat a short distance from the others.

Staring down at her, Alistair began to frown. "Why are you agreeing to this?" he asked in a low whisper, evidently unwilling to risk having their conversation overheard. "You don't owe Redcliffe anything. Defending this village isn't important to the Blight and it puts us in unnecessary danger."

"But it's important to you," she replied as she searched his face, willing him to understand that it was not bravado which had her agreeing to this. "And even though we're not getting along particularly well right now," at that, Elissa did manage a brief wry smile, "you're still important to me." Belatedly, another compelling reason entered into her head and she grimaced at her oversight. "Plus it's the right thing to do. I should have said that first. Pretend I said that first." She reached out to touch his hand. "Alistair, if we had been at Highever, you and me and the others, I would have begged you all to fight. I can't do any less here."

Although if they had been at Highever, nothing would be as it was: she would not be herself and all manner of things would be different. She felt a chill creep through her at the thought of what she might have done or, more accurately, what she might not have done. Just like Duncan, would she have refused to take arms against an enemy? Or, just like Duncan, would she have insisted that one Grey Warden could not successfully challenge a tyrant?

Those thoughts might have gathered momentum into a spiral of doubt had Alistair not done something unexpected. Or he at least did something partially unexpected; he reached out his hand and rested it against her shoulder. But Elissa was certain, certain, that he had meant to cup her cheek. Judging by the flush across his own cheeks, he had realised the same thing. And it had taken him by surprise too.

He briefly squeezed her shoulder then let his hand drop back to his side. "If that's the case, I know we promised not to split up but Leliana's suggestion is worth considering."

Elissa gnawed on her lip. She still thought remaining in the village was the better option—it was certainly the more hands-on option—but now that Alistair was advocating for it, she considered the idea of sneaking into the castle a little more thoroughly. "I've already promised to stay in the village. The Bann will never agree to a change of plan now."

He flashed a strained smile towards her. "We'll see." Side-stepping around her, Alistair returned to the group and addressed Bann Teagan directly, his voice quiet but firm. "Elissa uses daggers and Leliana is an archer. Neither of their skills are particularly suited to fighting the undead. Sten and I have the strength, Morrigan can cast defensive spells and the Mabari is ferocious against anything, but blades and arrows will have little to no effect." He gave a decisive shake of his head. "They will do more good sneaking into the castle than staying here to fight."

"I don't agree," Teagan replied shortly. "Besides, there is no guarantee that the castle will in fact be empty. They may very well be sneaking into even greater danger." He sighed, expression pinched. "Alistair, on my honour, should we survive the assault, I will accompany you all to the castle tomorrow."

On hearing the refusal, Alistair pressed his lips into a thin line. "The answer to all of this has to be in the castle. If Elissa and Leliana can find out what's causing the attacks, maybe they can stop it before the village is overrun." His sternness suddenly dissipated as he quirked an eyebrow at the Bann. "They can use the secret access. You know, the one I certainly don't know about up in the windmill."

All eyes first focused on Alistair, his audience digesting his last remark, before they all settled their gaze on Teagan. Crossing his arms, the Bann regarded the young man with an air of sheer exasperation.

"Yes, they could," he eventually conceded with a heavy sigh. "Maker, Alistair, I forgot how often you played about here."

"Defending the village only protects it for tonight," Alistair continued. "If Elissa and Leliana identify the cause, it could mean the village is saved."

Reluctant as he clearly still was, the Bann finally agreed. "If you can convince some of the villagers to assist us, it may help to offset the absence of the two. Depending on what additional defences we can source, I will unlock the entrance to the passage way at dusk." He shot Alistair a pointed look. "It had better still be locked when I arrive."

Clearly, Bann Teagan had not anticipated that Alistair would know as much about the village as he himself did. Yet even though it was Alistair who had brokered the agreement, there was still a pause in the conversation as he looked towards Elissa, seeking a sign that she approved of the bargain. Wordlessly, she gave a short nod.

He shot her a ghost of a smile before turning back to Teagan. "Agreed. I can't pick locks anyway."

Having liaised with the Mayor of the village, the whole group were kept busy fetching and ferrying, threatening and cajoling in preparation for that evening. Yet even with the recruitment of the blacksmith, the veteran dwarf and the elf-spy to the cause of defending the village, the equipping of Ser Perth and his men with their amulets and the ale freely flowing amongst the men of the militia, Bann Teagan was only just persuaded that the newcomers had upheld their end of the bargain.

Begrudgingly, he confirmed that he would meet with Elissa and Leliana near the windmill on the hill just before dusk. The two women had initially spent time practising their technique, ensuring that they could walk in the footsteps of one another and communicate with various hand signals. But after almost three months of fighting alongside one another, they were already well-practised in such things. Necessity had forged them into accomplished partners. So it was that they found themselves huddled inside the windmill, stamping their feet against the cold and blowing on their hands as they awaited the arrival of the Bann. Elissa would be glad to get going if only to warm herself up.

The creak of the old wooden door at last heralded the arrival of the Bann. Yet Elissa looked past him as she sought out Alistair, having sensed his approach long beforehand. He ducked through the doorway just behind Teagan, looking for her just as she looked for him, before helping Teagan to wrestle some heavy barrels across the floor. A trapdoor lay beneath and the Bann crouched down, fishing a key from some deep pocket to unlock it.

"It will take you some time to cross beneath the lake," he explained, grimacing slightly when the key cut into his palm as he struggled to turn it in the lock. "You should go now before the attack begins. It won't be long." There was a clunk as the lock finally released. Pulling back the trapdoor with a grunt, Teagan stood and pressed the key into her hand. "Now you have convinced me to agree to this, I want to say something. Whatever you do," he said lowly, eyes locked on hers, "Eamon is the priority here. If you have to, just get him out of there. Isolde, me, and anyone else... we're expendable."

Elissa nodded, secreting the key away.

"Good luck," the Bann offered her a clipped smile, looking to Leliana as he included her in his sentiment. "I hope we all survive to speak in the morning." With that, he turned and left, pausing only to instruct Alistair that he should take his place at the upper barricades with all due haste.

While Leliana angled herself by the edge of the trapdoor, readying her nerves before she jumped feet-first into the dank abyss, Elissa addressed her fellow Warden.

"I promise we'll do whatever we can to help the Arl," she reiterated to him. "We just need to find out what's causing the attacks and then find out where he is."

Alistair made to say something but a ruckus from further along the road drew both their attention. It was the villagers roaring their resistance as the gates of the castle began to open.

"Time to go," he decreed, placing a hand on the small of her back as he forcibly steered her towards the trapdoor.

Having already made her descent, Leliana gazed up at them, her face a brilliant contrast against the gloom. She backed up a few steps to allow Elissa the space to jump down and join her. Bracing herself against the edge of the hole, Elissa nimbly hopped after her friend, barely making a sound as her feet hit the ground in the tunnel. Both women blinked up at Alistair who hovered over the entrance, watching them with a wrinkled brow.

"I'll shut this and cover it with straw," he explained, turning his head to glance over his shoulder as the shouts of the villagers suddenly surged. "Hopefully it'll stop anything from following after you."

Elissa remained stock-still, craning her neck upwards to look at him. "OK." She tried to take a deep breath, wanting to say something reassuring to him, but instead she blurted out, "don't go near any Eluvians and you'll be fine."

Although it might not have been what she intended to say, it proved to be the right thing to say. A rumble of laughter came from above as Alistair looked back to her, the first full grin on his face that she had seen in weeks. She found herself grinning in response.

"Right," he acknowledged, still spluttering a little. "Don't worry at all about the undead. Just make sure to avoid the rare and ancient Dalish relics. Got it."Their little exchange had an effect upon Leliana too. Tutting beneath her breath, she grasped Elissa by the forearm and tugged her in the direction of the castle. "We must go," she reminded the Warden. "The longer we linger, the greater the danger for all of them."

It was a timely warning. Murmuring goodbyes, the two women stole away from the trapdoor, which closed behind them with a resounding thud, and into the darkness with only a small lantern to illuminate their route. On silent steps, they darted through the underground tunnel, eventually emerging into the dungeons of the castle. Despite their intention to disturb nothing and no one, some poor soul imprisoned in one of the cells called out to them as they past. They lingered only long enough to hear his tale. In hushed tones and with furtive glances towards the dungeon entrance, the dirt-streaked man—an apostate, it turned out—revealed everything: the manifestation of Connor's magic, the Arlessa's desperation, his being hired as a tutor. He also admitted that he had in fact poisoned the Arl under instruction from Loghain and had no knowledge of an antidote. As the convoluted tale wore on, Elissa raised her eyes to Leliana and found her own despair reflected back at her. It had all seemed so straight-forward—and now their task was close to impossible.

"The Arl is the priority," she murmured, almost reverent as she recalled Teagan's parting words. All her earlier good humour had fled in the face of what was ahead of them. "Everyone else is expendable."

Leliana regarded her through narrowed eyes. "You are not suggesting—"

But that was exactly what she was suggesting. Unbridled fear, fuelled by years of Chantry lessons, was swiftly taking a hold of Elissa. She was deaf to the desperate whispers of the blood mage in the cell, claiming to know of an alternative to rid the boy of the demon, and she was blind to the judgement in her friend's eyes. Demons were to be destroyed. That did she not know all the facts did not pass through her mind. In that instant, she decided she knew enough. They would kill the abomination. Somehow.