When Wynne woke everyone concerned gathered in the main hall to perform the ritual. The templars stood around the circle of mages who stood around Wynne and Alistair. Alistair tossed a pillow on the stone floor. Wynne made herself comfortable and then nodded to Irving. With one last look at Elissa, Alistair took his place on one knee next to Wynne but he waited until she'd slipped into the fade to draw his knife.

Nobody spoke.

Alistair stared down at Wynne's peaceful face knowing that until the moment she woke or became an abomination there would be no change. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the blue energy that the mages used to send her into the fade dissipate. It snapped around him making his hair stand on end and his scalp tingle before the final bit dove into Wynne's head like the tail of a burrowing beast.

The cold from the hard stone floor crawled up his legs and drew the warmth out of his body.

Someone behind him shifted slightly, a different person in a different direction cleared their throat. Red rolled over in his sleep but the familiar sound failed to comfort Alistair, how could it, how could anything? So, Alistair prayed as he hadn't prayed for years. He begged the Maker to grant Wynne the strength she needed to complete her task.

His legs were both stiff, he was afraid one of them would cramp soon. He wondered if he should switch legs. He wondered how much time had passed, it seemed like at least an hour but Alistair knew his time sense would not be able to help him in this situation.

Waiting, waiting to dispense mercy in whatever form was appropriate. Waiting, waiting like a templar, the very thing he never wanted to be. Waiting, waiting endlessly.

Then it was over. Wynne slowly opened her eyes. Alistair looked at her closely then withdrew his knife and stood wearily.

"It is done. The demon is dead," said Wynne, "and the child has been freed but I could not reach his father."

"What!" shrieked Lady Isolde, "You must go back! You must find him!"

"I cannot go back. Besides it is the state of his body keeping him in the fade. If his body is healed then he should wake normally."

Isolde dropped into a chair and let her head fall into her hands and sobbed dramatically.

Alistair shook his head in disgust and left the main hall. He stumbled past the knights and his companions. He found himself in the Arl's study he slammed the door and then dropped into one of the soft chairs. He closed his eyes. Rage and relief warred atop a backdrop of guilt.

The door opened and closed. He heard the distinctive sound of Elissa's tread cross to the other chair. He lifted his head as she lowered herself into its comfortable embrace.

"Isolde?" he asked.

"Still at it."

"Have you told her about the ashes yet?"

She shook her head. " I thought I'd let Teagan do that, not that I've told him."

"No, me neither."

"Are you alright?"

Alistair stood and paced around the room. He dragged a shaking hand through his hair. "NO!"

Elissa's eyes widened in surprise but her tone was quiet, gentle and understanding. "Tell me."

"I-I never wanted to hold that knife. Did you see it? It's not a weapon – it's a slaughter house tool for putting down failures. I spent a lot of time in the monastery thinking about that sort of knife. It is called the Templar's Fang because it's often poisoned as well. The excuse for killing generations of young mages is that only the strong can be allowed to serve because the weak will inevitably betray us all."

Now that he'd started the torrent of words fell from his mouth.

"I watched them cut down a girl who didn't make it, she was a child and yet she was a mage. Not quite as useful as a goat because when slaughtered she cannot be eaten. Born to be locked up and controlled by the Chantry's hands—by the Templars. And the Templars are tied to the Chantry by their addiction to Lyrium. That world is the dumping ground for the unwanted. You knew, in the monastery, why you were there. Youngest children, orphans, bastards, and fools. The priesthood, the sisters, they are the arbiters of the rules, of change. They are the only ones that can truly leave. Templars who try to leave just die—Lyrium withdrawal. The mages that try to leave are hunted down like rabid animals. So why, why did I have to be dragged back into that world? What if Wynne had failed? What if I had to put her down?"

He stopped. He knew he was babbling and it wasn't the endearing babbling Elissa professed to enjoy. It was an emotional eruption. Somehow watching over Wynne and playing at being a templar was just one thing too many.

"You didn't, Alistair. She's fine."

"I know that, it's the only reason I'm here ranting instead of...Maker, I don't know what I would have done. Could I have even ..."

Elissa went to him and put her arms around him. He lowered his head to her neck and bit back a sob. He kissed her neck softly and whispered, "Please, please, my darling, I need you right now."

She tried to squeeze him through his armor. "I'm here, my love, I'm right here."

Alistair pulled back and gripped her arms. He stared into her eyes willing her to be understanding, to want it too. "No, Elissa. I need you. I need to feel alive. I need to feel you. Please, make love to me, let me make love to you."

Elissa stiffen in his grasp and stumbled back. "I-I just can't..." she gestured at the desk and then whispered, "lay down and...and just do it."

He let go of her turned around and took a deep breath. He tried to remember that she'd been attacked that he had to be patient that he'd been a virgin until very, very recently. That he'd survived most of his life without the reassurance and joy he'd found in her arms on their wedding night. But it was hard and while she was in no danger of being taken by force, he did feel resentful and that wasn't good.

"Alistair, is this," she touched his shoulder, "is this your mother's amulet?"

He frowned at the sudden shift in her attitude and the atmosphere. When he turned she held out an amulet and it looked just as he remembered down to the wear marks on the chain. "Yes. This is my mother's amulet, it has to be. But why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?"

"Here on the Arl's desk." She pointed to a small glass dish.

"He must have found the amulet after I threw it at the wall and he repaired it and kept it. I don't understand. Why would he do that?"

"Perhaps he cared for you more than you thought."

"I guess you could be right. We never really talked that much and then the way I left. Thank you, I mean it. I thought I'd lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this if he recovers from his...when he recovers, that is. I wish I'd had this a long time ago."

"Well, perhaps now is the time to see what miracles the Andraste's Ashes can perform."

He nodded and slipped the amulet around his neck. Alistair took a deep breath and tried to find the right words to apologise. "Elissa, my darling, I'm sorry. I don't mean to..."

She placed her fingers on his lips. "I'm your wife, you have a right to expect things but I-I get nervous when it's so sudden. I may never...I may not be much of a wife."

He lifted her hands to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. "Only you, I only want to be with you." He grinned. "I'm your husband and you have a right to expect certain things from me as well."

"You don't seem to have any problem delivering." He watched entranced as blood rose to her face staining her neck and then rushing upwards to her cheeks.

"That's not what you need from me, my darling. You need my patience and I don't always deliver that. Now, let's go see Teagan and get the Arl back into the game."

Elissa smiled and nodded briskly. They made their way out of the office and back to the main hall where they found Teagan and Isolde arguing. Teagan held Isolde's arm firmly. The mages and the templars had taken their leave.

"I do not want these coarse warriors to scare my poor Connor."

"Isolde, you must stay here until the way has been cleared by the knights."

Alistair nodded to Teagan, "It is safe Bann Teagan." He felt no need to say that it had been safe of all threats save the demon for two days. If they chose to believe he and Elissa had been clearing the way, so be it.

"Very well, let us see Connor."

"Actually," Elissa started, "there is a matter we need to discuss with you my lord."

Teagan turned with a frown. "Can't this wait, my lady."

"I'm sorry but no."

"Very well. Go ahead Isolde but you must take a guard with you into the family suite."

"Teagan," she began angrily.

"Or you can continue to wait."

She shook her head angrily as she flounced off.

"What is this about, my friends?"

Elissa pressed the pouch of Ashes into Teagan's hand. "We found Andraste's Urn before we came to Redcliffe. Many of the Knights searching for it were murdered and worse trying to find it. This is a pinch of the blessed ashes for Arl Eamon."

"This is a miracle," he said fervently.

Alistair waved his hands. "Hey, my wife gets all the credit. I still can't read a map."

Teagan bowed deeply over Elissa's hand and kissed her knuckles. "It is well for Alistair that he hurried to marry you before other suitors had the opportunity to appreciate your worth."

Alistair extracted Elissa's hand from Teagan's grasp and glared at the Bann. His wife just giggled at their antics and they all swept upstairs to see Connor and hopefully cure the Arl.

Connor had no memory of the demon nor his time in the fade. He simply remembered trying to help his father get well. His mother fussed over him and wouldn't let him talk any further with anyone.

Teagan smiled jovially at Connor and Isolde. "A miracle," he announced. "These fair friends have not only saved the village and freed the castle they brought with them a pinch of ashes from Andraste's Urn."

Isolde beamed. "Teagan, you have never failed us. I thank you, dear brother, as will Eamon."

They adjourned to the bed chamber. It was clear that the Arl needed any help he could get. His skin was an unhealthy yellow colour and his breathing filled the bed chamber with a sinister rasp.

The ashes were mixed with consecrated oil and used to anoint the ailing man's forehead, cheeks and lips. A healing mage stood solemnly at the foot of the bed and cast a spell. The magic appeared swirled around the Arl's body and then sank into his skin. The wheezing eased and yellow faded from his skin leaving it a healthy weathered brown. Finally, Eamon blinked then opened his eyes.

"Thank goodness you are mended, husband," Isolde cried, "terrible, terrible things have happened and these villains have stepped above their station in your absence. They have fooled Teagan and tried to keep me from you so that you would not know the truth."