A short chapter but at least it's a quick update! Thanks to all who have reviewed so far-spectre4hire, SkaterGirl246, Mike, owl208 (x2!), Ronin Kenshin, Marvey4, none, JadeOokami, lazyguy90, animevideogamefreak, karthik9, JordanMatthias and Suilven-and thanks to anyone who might review later.

A very insightful discussion in those reviews, owl and Mike. I quite enjoyed it! The answer to the question was that I hadn't expected Alistair of all people to suddenly rear up and give Corin a reaming, deserved or otherwise. But that's the way it goes sometimes.

I finally get around to being able to write one of my favorite characters in this chapter.

"Welcome back, Sister," was the first thing that Cauthrien heard. She opened her eyes to find herself in a bed in a room she didn't recognize but from the décor assumed was in the Palace. The Senior Warden was at her bedside, a small smile on his face.

"You are in a room in the palace, next to mine," he told her. "Your armor and weapons have been returned," and he indicated an armor stand over by one wall. "If you wish food or a bath, you need only ring for them. If you have questions, please feel free to come to me with them. I am very happy to welcome you to the Grey Wardens."

"I would love a bath," Cauthrien admitted, wrinkling her nose. "I smell like a jail cell. And some clean clothes. And I'm starving!"

Riordan chuckled and went and pulled the bell. "We cannot have our newest sister perishing of starvation right after she has Joined! By all means eat and bathe and get some rest. The servants will see to clean clothes for you-your own if they may be found, others if not. I understand that we are leaving in a few hours for Redcliffe."

"Where are the other Wardens?"

Riordan's face grew still for a moment. "I believe they are still at Fort Drakon."

It was quiet on the roof of Fort Drakon. There were sentries posted about the perimeter of the wall, but they remained where they were. Corin moved close enough to a couple of them in his wanderings that he was recognized and saluted and asked if he needed anything or an escort, but when he said that he was fine, they left him in peace.

Staying just long enough to see that Cauthrien would survive, he'd left afterwards for the roof and hopefully a little privacy in which to think. Corin suspected that the funeral earlier that evening had affected him more than he'd thought and that it had been the reminder of Highever that had caused his defiance about the Joining. Not that he hadn't meant everything he had said, but now he regretted the way he'd behaved-or at least the fact that it had upset Alistair so. That had not been his intention. His ire had been directed towards Riordan, or more accurately, towards what Riordan represented-the commanders of the Grey Wardens. Riordan was my substitute Duncan. But Alistair had quite understandably taken it personally as well. And it was particularly bad form to have been provoking his Warden brother after said brother had gone to so much effort to attend the funeral; something Corin knew had been very hard for him to do.

Corin had not been up on the roof before and hadn't realized that there were ballistae up there, though it was certainly an optimal place for them. Idly, he meandered from one to the other, looking out over their firing arcs, inspecting the mechanisms. The bases, carved with mabari heads, made him smile a bit despite his sour mood. It was a chilly evening, but his cloak was more than sufficient to the task. He found that he rather liked it up on the roof, the city's lights glowing beneath him, the stars glowing above, a chill breeze gently soughing across the stone.

The door to the tower opened. A tall, burly figure was silhouetted in the golden light. The door closed behind it as it stepped onto the roof. Corin sighed, paced to the center of the stone pavement and waited, hands clasped behind his back.

"Riordan took Cauthrien back to the Palace," Alistair said noncommittally as he walked up.

"Good. She'll need to get what rest she can and some food before we leave. I don't think she was eating at all in the jail."

"You should get some rest too."

"I got a very good night's sleep last night. Remember? I'll be all right. The same can't be said of you though. You should get to bed, with or without Leliana."

"I will." He stared down at the pavement for a moment, scuffed his boot along it, then looked back up and met Corin's eyes. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened down there."

Corin threw a hand up in negation. "It's all right. You were right. I was being insulting and a bastard. You had cause."

"It's just that…it's just that it makes me really angry when you talk about Duncan and the Wardens that way. I understand that you hate it, that it wasn't your idea, but it still makes me feel dirty when you go on about that."

"And I understand that, but Alistair…we're never going to see eye-to-eye about Duncan. He is one of the things we will just have to agree to disagree about. To you, he's the man who actually bothered to ask you what it was you wanted to do with your life and got you out of the Templars to a future which, while somewhat truncated, at least offered you more freedom than what the Chantry would have." Corin sighed and rubbed his temple. "To me, he is the man who knelt in my dying father's blood and would not agree to help me and my mother escape as any decent person would do. No, he sat there and bargained with my father, who was in terrible pain, until Father agreed to turn me over to the Grey Wardens. And I'm sorry, but I just can't forget that. I Joined the Wardens under duress and I was very unhappy when I found out just what that entailed-after the fact."

"Corin, if Duncan hadn't dragged you out of there, you would be dead!" Alistair said, his expression earnest. "I know you! You'd have never left your mother and you would have died."

"You don't know that for sure. Father might have died quickly enough that I could have persuaded her to leave in time. We didn't really encounter any of Howe's men, Alistair, once we were out of the castle. I knew that land like the back of my hand and got us through. I didn't need Duncan's help. And since my mother stayed with him, my father's bargain bought nothing! I might have been able to escape, to raise a resistance, take Highever back."

"Start the civil war a little earlier, you mean? How would that have helped?" In case you hadn't noticed, you've got Highever back anyway! And stopped the civil war! And activated all the old treaties. And gave Ferelden a fighting chance. Not a great chance, but a damn sight better than she'd have had under Loghain! From where I'm standing, I think Duncan made a great deal! It sucked for you, but it was good for Ferelden." He reached out, took Corin's shoulders, held him at arms' length and looked him in the eye earnestly.

"I couldn't have done it, Corin. I know you keep saying I could have, but I know my limitations. I'd have been lost in all that political crap in Orzammar. I'd have probably just gone on and killed the werewolves. And all the clever bits in the Gauntlet-the less said about that the better! I'd still be on the wrong side of that stupid bridge thingy! Or maybe still eating mince pie with Goldanna in the Fade. And hey, while we're on that subject-why is it that a demon pretending to be my sister is nicer than the real thing?" That got him a bit of a smile from his Warden brother, so he soldiered on. "I knew the other Wardens. You never got the chance to. There wasn't a noble in the lot. I think Duncan knew he was going to need someone with your skill set, the training your father gave you. That's why he did what he did and was such a total bastard. Nobles don't let their children go easily. When he had a chance at one, he took it. Because for Duncan, defeating the Blight was all that mattered." He let Corin go.

"That's as may be, Alistair." Corin rubbed his temple again. "But you say you feel dirty when I talk badly about the Wardens? I've felt dirty since I became one. If I think too much about it, I can almost feel the Taint crawling through my veins. Did you know I didn't even want to have sex for the longest time after the Joining? I didn't want to shoot that into some woman."

He half expected Alistair to blush or stammer at the very idea. Instead, his Warden brother just snorted. "Drama, much?" Alistair scoffed. "I've got news for you, Ser I'm-Too-Soiled-To-Sleep-With-A-Woman. Your memory sucks. It was maybe a month, tops, before you and Morrigan were going at it like a pair of demented minks. I know, because we could all hear the two of you carrying on, even as far away as she liked to camp. I'll take darkspawn nightmares any time instead of that, thank you very much."

Corin blinked in astonishment, but Alistair wasn't finished. "You know what your problem is? You think too damned much! Think, think, think all the time. Worry, worry, worry. Plot, plot, plot. You should try just being oblivious every once in a while. I find it very restful."

"Maker! You are such a total prat, Alistair Theirin!" Corin managed to choke out before exploding into laughter. Alistair joined him and they simply laughed together for a while.

Eventually, Alistair coughed a bit and stopped. "I know what this was really about," he declared.

"Oh, you do, Ser Oblivious-Yet-Insightful-At-The-Same-Time?"

"Yes, I do. You always said you wouldn't make your worst enemy a Warden. And then you realized that making Cauthrien a Warden was a good idea, because she didn't have a future otherwise and we needed more Wardens. But you didn't like going back on your stated word, so you took it out on Riordan and me. And that's all right. Because it was a good idea. If we had to make only one Warden, then Cauthrien was a good choice because of her sheer bad-assery. She survived the Joining, so we have four Wardens now instead of three. Our chances of ending the Blight just got twenty-five percent better." Alistair gave Corin a sober look. "And she knew exactly what she was getting into, so that should salve your conscience. I don't know if it's ever happened before that way before, but she's the one Warden who went in with her eyes open."

"There could be more. I think the Wardens should give up this whole secrecy thing."

"They'd never get any recruits."

"Four words for you. Legion of the Dead. Similar sacrifice, plenty of volunteers."

"The Legion doesn't take in the Taint."

"Maybe the Wardens should let people know that's what they do. Explain exactly the nature of the sacrifice they make to keep Thedas safe. Then perhaps there wouldn't be the problems they get when Blights are far apart and people have forgotten they're needed. There would be people who would volunteer, Alistair. Elves, for instance. Live your life subsisting on sufferance in an alienage or live free and respected as a Grey Warden? Mages too. Not all of them would, but you've got to know that there are some who would rather live free for thirty years accomplishing something in the world than pent in a tower all their lives. And there are humans who would make that sacrifice to leave a troubled past behind and wipe the slate clean."

"It's not our decision to make."

"No, it's not. And we've certainly got other problems at present. But I won't forget." He clapped Alistair on the shoulder. "Let's go try to get some rest. It's an early day tomorrow." There was a moment's hesitation. "And thank you for coming up here after me. You are the last person I want to be at odds with now."

Alistair shrugged. "Hey, not that I'm speaking from personal experience or anything, but I've heard that even brothers who love each other fight every now and again."

"Well I can speak from personal experience and it is true. Both the love and the fighting part." Corin grinned. "Come on, you big, sweaty hunk of cheese."

"Somehow, I think I'm going to regret having ever said that."

"Somehow, I know you are."

They were halfway to the rooftop door when it opened and a soldier stepped through. "Your Royal Highness?"

"Yes."

"Bann Alfstanna is in the chapel down on the first floor. She's got a man with her she says you need to see. Something about the darkspawn."

"Please tell her I'll be right down."

"Yes, my lord."

Travel down to the first floor was occupied mostly with Corin trying unsuccessfully to rouse some enthusiasm in Alistair for the horse the Crown Prince had selected as his mount for the journey to Redcliffe. Said horse had been chosen for Alistair in absentia while he'd been off seeing to his funeral suit that afternoon. They could hear voices as they approached the chapel, one of them obviously Alfstanna's. The other, a man's voice, caused Corin to stop in his tracks and clutch Alistair's arm in a sudden death grip. Alistair turned to look at him, startled to find that his Warden brother's face had drained of all color until it looked pale as whey.

"This is a fine way to run a kingdom, Alfie!" the man's voice was saying. "You make a Crown Prince and then you lose him? We've already been all over the Palace and now we've got to walk all over Drakon? Pup's always been a bit scatterbrained, but this is ridiculous!"

"Oh, thank you, blessed Bride of the Maker!" Corin murmured fervently, releasing Alistair's arm, for which Alistair was grateful, as Corin had quite a grip. The Crown Prince took several deep breaths and to Alistair's relief the color began to come back into his face. Reaching up to settle his crown a little more firmly, he smiled suddenly, joyously, his eyes glowing. Then he took the last few steps and turned the corner into the chapel.

"And what in the Maker's name has come over Pup while I've been gone, I'd like to know!" the man was grumbling as they entered. He was a rough-looking sort, Alistair noted, bearded and scruffy, his armor an odd assortment of Ferelden and what looked to be Chasind. A red scar ran down his right cheek across the temple into his hairline. He had half a dozen men with him, equally scruffy and similarly crudely accoutered, but the shields a couple of them bore, blazoned with much-faded laurel wreaths, gave Alistair a clue as to the reasons for Corin's behavior. A clue that was confirmed when Corin stepped forward grinning and said coolly,

"That's Crown Prince Pup to you, old man! Took your sweet time getting here, didn't you?"

And then suddenly he was in the scruffy man's arms and they were pounding each other on the back and laughing and crying at the same time, exclaiming "Fergus!" and "Pup!" while Bann Alfstanna watched them, sniffling, and the Highever men with Fergus cheered.

"Fergus," Corin said eventually, unashamedly wiping tears from his eyes, "this is my Warden brother Alistair Theirin. Alistair, this is my older brother Fergus Cousland."

Alistair extended his hand, giving the older Cousland a closer and frankly curious inspection. Fergus didn't look much like Corin; he was shorter, browner, and nowhere near so flagrantly handsome as his younger brother. But they did have something in common in the shape of their eyes and the way they smiled, though Fergus's nose looked like it had more than a passing acquaintance with bar-room brawls. His was a rugged, amiable, lived-in sort of face and Alistair decided that he rather liked it. The Teyrn was giving him a similar inspection and seemed to have come to a similar conclusion.

"So you're Theirin, eh?" He gave Alistair's hand a firm squeeze. "I'm very pleased to meet you."

"And I you, my lord teyrn."

"'My lord teyrn', is it? I thought my power-hungry little brother had snapped up the teyrnir as well as the crown." But Cousland was grinning as he said it.

"Fergus!" Alfstanna remonstrated. "I was there! Corin did just as he ought to, and claimed the teyrnir for himself only in your absence!"

Fergus chuckled. "Don't get all chafed, Alfie! I'm just pulling his leg!"

"You might want to be careful how much of that leg-pulling you do, Fergus," Corin noted with a satisfied smile. "I've already got half a head on you, after all."

"Yes, you do and how bloody unfair is that? I'm the elder-I should be taller."

"Well, people do shrink with age," Corin said helpfully and got his shoulder punched by way of reward. Then he suddenly became all business. "The man who came for me said you had some news about the darkspawn, Fergus. Is that true or was Bann Alfstanna just trying to surprise me?"

Fergus cocked his head, surprised at Corin's crisp tone, surveying his little brother thoughtfully for a moment. "No, it's true. Alfie told me you'd intended to set out for Redcliffe in the morning, to join the army up there because that's where you thought the horde was going."

"It is, according to the reports we've gotten."

"Well I hate to tell you this, little brother, but we dodged our way around a very large army of darkspawn on our way in here. They were in the southern part of South Reach, headed north and west along the south bank of the Drakon. I figure they'll be here in about four or five days."

"Damn! Are you sure?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure," Fergus said drily. "It made life very interesting for us for a while. We were trying to balance keeping safe with actually finding out some useful information for whoever was in charge here. Until I got to the city, I thought that was Loghain. I would have told him, even if it meant my arrest, if there were no other choice but I was trying to find someone I could relay the information safely to and avoid that consequence. We were skulking around in the Marketplace tonight, keeping our blazons covered, when I ran into Alfie going into the Gnawed Noble after Loghain's service."

"I'm amazed you were able to recognize him, Bann Alfstanna," Corin said. "He's looking even scruffier than usual."

"I've known Teyrn Fergus since I was a very little girl, Your Royal Highness," Bann Alfstanna said primly, high color on her fair-skinned face. "I would know him anywhere." Corin cocked an inquiring eyebrow in her direction and the color deepened.

"In any event, Alfie was giving me all the latest news when this elf suddenly runs up to me out of nowhere," Fergus said. "Are you Fergus Cousland?" he asks. Since it was safe to admit it, I said yes. He hands me this book of a letter, says it was from you and runs off. So Alfie takes me and the men into the tavern and we get ourselves some dinner. I read your letter and she finishes catching me up on what happened after the letter, which of course was very interesting stuff. I must say, of all the things that could have happened in my absence, you getting betrothed to Anora and becoming Crown Prince was never even on my list."

"It wasn't exactly what I set out to do either," Corin admitted. "Things just worked out that way. About this army, Fergus-did you see a dragon with it?"

The teyrn shook his head. "Didn't get close enough to see it if it was marching. But we didn't see a dragon flying."

"Well this changes everything we've planned. It's a real piece of luck you came when you did-we'd have been badly surprised otherwise. Come on-we've got to get back to the Palace. I need to wake Eamon and the Queen."