Hello Readers,

So this took so long…it just did not seem to flow like the other chapters. I'm still not certain I like where is chapter was going, but I will see where the others take me. I wanted to show how Shirl was changing at least around Alistair. : ) I don't know…the next chapter should have more action and hopefully not take in the direction that I'm not expecting, silly characters. : )

Thanks to all of you for reading.

Prism Elf

Chapter 21: Outskirts of Brecilian Forest

Alistair parried her sword's swipe and countered with his shield, just like they had been practicing for the past few nights. Good, Shirl thought. He's a fast learner. His follow through on his attacks with the shield were getting more powerful and he was starting to use it as weapon as well as…well a shield.

Shirl braced herself against his blow and blocked it. Shield to shield. "Good," she said a smile slipping on her lips. "Break, Alistair." She called softly. Alistair disengaged and lowered his sword and shield.

"Was that better?" he asked raising his shield slightly. "I think I felt you give ground a little."

Shirl shook her head. "I shifted my stance to take the blow, but you are far from knocking me off my feet." She laughed at Alistair's crestfallen look. "Come on, I want to teach you the last step of the attack." Shirl raised her shield and squared her stance. "Do exactly as we have been practicing, but instead of pulling the attack at the end. Go with it. Step into the blow with full speed and full momentum. I want you to come at with everything you have."

"Are you certain? I don't know." Alistair looked down at his shield and sword ruefully, "What if I hurt you?"

"Don't be coward. Maker, help me. Sometimes I wonder at how you ever became a Grey Warden." She saw Alistair set his jaw and his eyes took on a steely glint. Good, use that.

Alistair raised his sword and shield into place and nodded at Shirl. Shirl nodded back and solidified her stance. She swung her sword halfheartedly at Alistair's head. He parried the blade and stepped fully into the attack. His shield snapped out at the last second with the full force of his body behind.

Shirl's eyes widened in shock at the power of the blow, she had ready herself for it, but it still took her off her feet. She landed on the ground staring up at the starry night. Her breath whipped from her body.

"Shirl!" Alistair called and then he was beside. He stared down at her his soft brown eyes crinkled with worry. "Are you alright?"

Shirl couldn't help it she started to laugh. Alistair's eyes widened in surprise.

"That's was good. Really good!" She beamed at him. He raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed all the harder. She clutched her sides gasping for air. Tears formed in her eyes and she squeezed them shut.

"I think I might have hit you too hard." He smiled at her. Touching a finger to his head he said. "I seemed to have cracked your skull."

Shirl got her laughter under control and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "I'm fine. Maker, I haven't laughed like that in years. Not since, Toby was a puppy and chewed up all of Fergus' socks and small clothes."

Alistair made a face and glanced over at the hound that was curled up sound asleep a few feet away. "Huh, kind of hard to picture him as a puppy though he does still chew on socks I noticed."

Shirl sat up a smile splayed across her lips. "Well don't leave them laying about where he can find them."

"I don't. Your bloody hound digs through my pack looking for Maker knows what. I swear he's too smart for his own good." Alistair stated shaking his head and sitting down on the ground next to her. He looked up at the stars his thoughts far away.

"You know I was thinking." Shirl said following his gaze up into the sky.

"Oh really, I suppose this means you are actually going to tell me." He looked at her. Shirl felt his eyes on her more than saw them. She knew that this was new to him; it was slightly new to her too. Her family's deaths had hit her harder than she had wanted to admit. She had never grieved for them or given them a proper funeral. And then being asked to save the entire world from a Blight just seemed so surreal to her, she had wanted to save to the world and everyone in it, but now…

She smiled. "Instead of looking for the elves right away, maybe we could make a quick detour into Denerim." Shirl felt herself blush, she was not certain why, but feeling him looking at her with warm brown made her feel slightly giddy. She was not certain if she liked this new feeling or if she wanted to receded back into her self contained shell. At times it was easier to act like you did not care than actually care. She wondered if it was not too late to become the hardened embittered warrior again. No, the damage has already been done. Some part of me will miss that control I had.

"Why do you suddenly want to go to Denerim? Especially since we are traveling right by the edge of the Brecilian Forest? It makes more sense to go to the elves and then to Denerim. I mean, I'm worried about Arl Eamon, and I want to help him, but I thought our top priority was building an army to fight against the Blight?" Alistair shifted and Shirl forced herself to meet his eyes. His eyes told all she needed to know. While he put on the grand front of wanting to gather the rest of their army…he really did want to help Arl Eamon, but he was telling her want she wanted to hear.

Sighing she stood up and gathered her shield and sword. "Come with me, Alistair." She said sheathing her sword and offering him a hand up. He took her hand and she pulled him to his feet.

Shirl started their tents. "Uhh, Shirl, where are we going?" Alistair asked nervously.

"My tent." She stated glancing over her shoulder to see his reaction.

"Your tent? But…why?" he stammered pausing in his step.

Shirl smiled and spun around to face him. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Alistair. But, if you feel more comfortable waiting out here then, wait I will be right back." She turned and walked into her tent. Weird he's been inside my tent before and it's never bothered him before. Shirl thought as she ducked under her tent flap. Once inside she made for her pack and started rummaging through it. Where did I put it? She wondered as her fingertips brushed against a small cool disk. Ah ha! She closed her fingers around the item and pulled it out dumping half of her packs contents onto the floor. "Dammit." She cursed aloud.

"You alright?" Alistair asked poking his head inside. He spotted Shirl crouched on the floor.

"I'm fine; I just spilled my pack is all." She huffed stuffing her things back into it.

"Wow…and you use to yell at me for not folding my tent correctly." Alistair said stepping fully into view.

"Yeah well, you still don't." Shirl quipped stuffing a shirt into the bag.

"Hey, at least my pack is neatly folded and organized." He crossed his arms and stared down at her. "Seriously, didn't your father treat you how to pack?"

Shirl stopped what she was doing and glared up at him. "No, we camped, but well, my mother usually did the packing." She breathed out a deep sigh. "Its one of the many things I wish she had taught me. Every thing was always organized and neat and I always wondered how she did it. Don't grin at me like that! It's true. You never can truly appreciate the value of a well packed bag until you have to try and do it yourself. I swear there is an art to it."

"You can say the same thing about folding a tent." He walked over knelt down next to her. "Here let me help."

Shirl's face reddened as he started folding up her spare shirt. "Uhhh…you don't have to do that. I can fold my own clothes."

"Really? You seem to be lacking in that department." He placed her shirt neatly folded into her pack. He grabbed for another article of clothing.

"Alistair, you really don't have to, okay stop." She reached for the piece of clothing he had in his hands. He pulled away from her.

"Oh, come one you really…"

"ALISTAIR! You're not folding my small clothes." She snapped and yanked them away from him. His face turned a new shade of red as he bite his bottom lip and fidgeted awkwardly with his hands.

Shirl laughed. "Well, if that's all it took, I would have said something sooner." She shoved the pair of small clothes into her bag. Turning back to him she pressed the cool metal disk into his hand. "Here, this is yours I believe."

"What?" He looked down into his hand. "Is this my mother's amulet?" He asked in a hushed whisper.

"I believe so. I found at Redcliff Castle."

"Where?"

"In a desk in one of the studies, I believe it was Arl Eamon's study." She replied plucking the amulet from his hand and unhitching the clasp. "Here, let me put it on you." She sat up slightly and reached around his neck. Her fingers brushed the back of his neck as she hooked the amulet around his neck. For a split second she paused with her fingers touching his skin. He's warm. In the blistering cold outside he was warm. There was a constant cold breeze blowing across Ferelden. How is he so warm? She wondered.

"Huh, Shirl?"

"Oh, sorry." Her face burned as she sat back. "It looks good on you." She reached up and traced her fingers along the symbol of Andraste that was etched into the smooth metal surface.

"I thought it was broken." He mumbled catching her hand and holding it gently.

"Arl Eamon must have found it and fixed it for you." She stated prying her hand away from his. "This just goes to show you how much he actually cares for you."

"Do you think, I said such awful things to him when I left…he kept this after all this time." Alistair asked fingering the medallion. "It was broken too…he must have fixed it. And you found it?" He looked her in the eye. "Why did you wait until now to tell me? You kept it all this time?"

Shirl flinched and looked away from his direct gaze. "I wasn't certain if I should give it to you at first, but then," she paused squaring her shoulders. "I want you to know that we are going to Denerim and you should look up your sister there. This is to help remind you of who you are." She placed a hand over his for a second and then quickly removed it. "So you are a bastard prince, but that doesn't you can't want the same thing as every man wants."

"And want does every man want?" he asked his voice husky and deep, making Shirl blush and turn to look at him.

"Well, you know…most men want a family." She stated quickly. "You have something of your mother's and your father's blood, and if you get to know your know sister, maybe then you won't feel so alone in the world. Especially since the Grey Wardens are all but dead in Ferelden…I mean besides me and…wow…I'm rambling." She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"Hey, what was that for?" He asked playfully.

"For letting me ramble on like that…you could have stopped me at any moment, but you let me just…" His lips were on hers. Shirl's eyes widened, she started to push him away then stopped. So, what happened to being friends? His hand was on the back of head his fingers entwined in her hair. His lips pressed firmly but were soft against hers. She closed her eyes and kissed him back.

Several moments passed before Shirl broke the kiss. Her heart fluttered in her chest and her palms were sweating. "That was unexpected." She said.

"Well…it was too soon wasn't it?" He whispered, caressing her cheek. "I don't know what came over me." He blushed and looked away from her. His hand dropped away from her face. Shirl canted her head and watched him.

Well, this is awkward…what do people do in these moments? Her mind buzzed. Her head was a little light headed from his kiss. She shook her head trying to clear it. The silence stretched on between them. Finally Alistair shifted and then stood up.

"I should go…I'm sorry, Shirl…I shouldn't of did that." He turned and walked out of her tent. All Shirl could do was watch him go. A part of her wanted to stop him and the other part was too afraid of what might happen if she did.