"Don't you ever talk?" Alistair said to Sten as they left Denerim behind. "You know, make polite conversation just to put people at ease?"

"You mean that I should remark upon the weather before I cut off a man's head?"

"Nevermind."

Sereda shook her head, and she saw the corner of Sten's mouth twitch just slightly. They'd gone about five minutes more before Alistair tried again. "Were you really in that cage for twenty days?"

"It might have been closer to thirty. I stopped counting after a while."

"What did you do? I mean… twenty days is a long time to sit in one place and do nothing."

"On good days, I posed riddles to the passer-by, offering them treasures in exchange for answers."

"Really?"

"No."

"Awww…" Alistair sounded genuinely disappointed. "Too bad. That's got serious potential."

Elissa laughed.

They ate on the move. Sereda thought she actually heard Elissa say something about missing Theron. The Dalish man certainly did know how to find a comfortable camp. She noted a curious expression on Wynne's face as the woman glanced at Alistair.

Alistair caught it too. "Why are you smiling like that? You look suspiciously like the cat who swallowed the pigeon."

"Canary."

"What?"

"I look like the cat that swallowed the canary."

Alistair shook his head. "I once had a very large cat, but that's not my point. My point is why are you smirking?"

Wynne chuckled, and glanced sideways at Elissa. "You were watching her. With great interest, I might add. In fact, I believe you were...enraptured."

"She's um… a noblewoman. I look to her for guidance."

"Oh, I see. So what guidance did you find in those swaying hips hmm?"

"No no, I wasn't looking at… you know her… hind-quarters"

"Certainly."

"I gazed… glanced, in that direction, maybe, but I wasn't staring… or really seeing anything even."

"Of course."

"I hate you. You're a bad person."

Sereda noticed that Faren was snickering the only thing she could do was shake her head.

They made camp quickly. Theron had caught some fish and placed them onto a hot stone, and left them to cook. He saw Leliana making herself comfortable, and smiled. He set the flowers he'd found earlier next to her. She blinked. "Flowers? For me? Oh… they're beautiful."

"Smell them."

She held them to her nose, and her eyes widened. She sniffed again, and tears came to her eyes. "These were…" She buried her face in them for a moment before looking back up at him. "These were her favourite. Oh, I haven't seen these in such a long time. They smell just like mother used to." Her smile trembled. "Thank you… thank you so much for remembering."

He nodded, and went back to finish tending to dinner. He saw her shoot him a sidelong glance as they ate. She let out a breath. "I lied to you, you know?" She sighed. "About why I left Orlais."

He smiled. "I knew you weren't telling me something."

She drew her knees in, and touched the flowers before looking back at him. "I didn't feel like talking about it then. What happened to me… maybe it will affect us, maybe not, but you should know." She drew a deep breath. "I came to Ferelden and the Chantry because I was being hunted, in Orlais."

Theron looked at her, that wasn't what he'd expected to hear. "Hunted? What for?""

"I was framed, betrayed by someone I thought I knew and could trust. Marjolaine—she was my mentor… and friend." She took one of the flowers, and played with the stem, twining it around her fingers. "She taught me the bardic arts—how to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a high-born lady, to blend in as a servant… The skills I learned I used to serve her, my bard-master, because I loved her, and because I enjoyed what I did."

He raised an eyebrow. "You loved her?" He felt a mild pang. It was just his luck, he finally found the one woman, and she… He just barely managed to keep himself from sighing.

"She was a remarkable woman. I cannot fully express the admiration I had for her, or the depth of my affection." Her gaze became distant. "I thought I knew her. My devotion to her blinded me to her… less than noble attributes." She shook her head. "You can say it was my fault. There was a man I was sent to kill. I was to bring Marjolaine everything he carried. I don't know who this man was. She gave me a name and a description, and I hunted him down. I found documents on his body—sealed documents."

"You opened them, didn't you?" He couldn't blame her. In her place, he would likely have done the same.

"My curiosity got the better of me. Something told me that I needed to know what was in those letters." Her voice grew sad. "Marjolaine… had been selling all kinds of information about Orlais to other countries—Nevarra and Antiva, among others. It was treason."

"Isn't that what bards do?"

"Some. But I had always assumed that Marjolaine only operated within Orlais. This was an unhappy surprise for me. My life as a bard taught me that my loyalties should be kept fluid. My concern was not that she was a traitor, but that her life would be in danger if she was caught."

He nodded. "Most countries don't appreciate treason."

She sniffed the flower again, and began braiding the stem into a ring. "I should have left well alone, but I didn't. I had to tell Marjolaine I feared for her life. She brushed aside my concern. She admitted her guilt, but said it was in the past. That is why the documents had to be destroyed, she said." The old pain showed on her face, the hurt in her voice. "I believed her. I kept believing, up till the moment they showed me the documents, altered by her hand to make me look the traitor."

His voice was soft and sympathetic. "She betrayed you?"

"Yes…" She sat for a moment in silence. He added another stick to the fire. "The Orlesian guards. They captured me… did terrible things to make me confess and reveal my conspirators. It was a traitor's punishment I endured, and at the end of it, all that awaited me was eternity in an unmarked grave."

"How did you get out?"

She gave a wry smile. "The skills Marjolaine taught me were good for something, at least. I broke free when I saw the opportunity." Her gaze became distant again. "I did not seek Marjolaine out. If she thought I was coming for her, she would have me caught again."

"And so you came to Ferelden, to Lothering."

"I was tempted to confront her; I was furious, betrayed, but what could I do against her? And so I fled, to Ferelden, to the Chantry and the Maker. Ferelden protected my person, and the Maker saved my soul." Her voice grew serious. "And that is the reason I am here. The real reason. No more lies between us, at least in this."

He added another stick to the fire. "You will be safe in my company."

"It feels good to have this off my chest. Thank you for listening, and understanding."

Daylen watched as Morrigan built a small fire. Neither of them had bothered with tents. He gave her a contemplative look. "Life in the Wilds must have been very lonely."

"At times, perhaps. A world full of people and buildings and things was all very foreign to me. If I wished companionship, I ran with the wolves and flew with the birds. If I spoke, 'twas to the trees." Her smile was fond, her voice wistful.

He leaned back, looking up at the stars. "That sounds wonderful."

"For a time. But one can only remain a child for so long. I recall the first time I crept beyond the edge of the Wilds. I did so in animal form, remaining in the shadows and watching these strange townsfolk from afar." She used her magic to light the fire, then sat down across from him. "I happened upon a noblewoman by her carriage, adorned in sparkling garments the likes of which I had never before seen. I was dazzled. This, to me, seemed what true wealth and beauty must be." She shook her head. "I snuck up behind her and stole a hand mirror from the carriage. 'Twas encrusted in gold and crystalline gemstones and I hugged it to my chest with delight as I sped back to the Wilds."

He tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "I can't imagine Flemeth was pleased."

"She was not," said Morrigan flatly. "Flemeth was furious with me. I was a child and had not yet come into my full power, and I had risked discovery for the sake of a pretty bauble. To teach me a lesson, Flemeth took the mirror and smashed it upon the ground. I was heartbroken."

He remembered when he was taken from his family. The day before the house was set on fire and he and his parents were trapped and he remember vaguely him extending his hand the next moment the flames turned to ice. The next day the Templars came and that was the last time he saw his parents. "But you were just a child."

She shrugged. "And a foolish one. Flemeth was right to break me of my fascination." Her voice became harsh. "Beauty and love are fleeting and have no meaning. Survival has meaning. Power has meaning." She looked across the fire at him. "Without those lessons I would not be here today, as difficult as they might have been."

Slowly began to understand her attitude and understood why she was so driven. "They made you stronger, didn't they?"

"They did, indeed." She gazed into the flames. "To return to your original question, perhaps my time in the Wilds was indeed lonely. But such was how it had to be." She waved a hand. "I find myself at times wondering what might have become of the girl with the beautiful, golden mirror... but such fantasies have no place amidst reality."

Kallian and Zevran had set up camp and while they were setting up a tent he looked at her as if feeling a bit conflicted.

"I've a question, if I may."

Kallian smiled at Zevran. "Go ahead."

He looked over at her. "Well here is the thing: I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you're on and this is all very fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over with." He shrugged. "As a point of curiosity."

"You could go, if you wanted," said Kallian.

"Could I?" He cocked his head to one side. "And if I didn't wish to leave?"

Kallian laughed. "There's always a use or two for a handsome elf."

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "I'm sure that I could come up with a few more, if pressed." His voice became cheerful. "It is good to know what my options might be. But that is for another time. For now, we have much to do, yes?"

She watched the others around the fire. Sten busied himself with tending to his armour. Barkspawn sat next to the qunari, and she was surprised to see the big man appeared to be actually holding a conversation with the hound.

He then turned and looking at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "Something wrong?"

"I don't understand. You look like a woman."

She blinked, and looked down at herself. "What's not to understand about that?" On the other side of the camp, she saw a wide eyed Alistair trying not to laugh and Faren was doing a far worse attempt of holding his laughter.

"You are a Grey Warden." He tilted his head to one side. "So it follows that you can't be a woman."

"That…" She furrowed her brow. "Doesn't make any sense, Sten."

"So you understand my confusion, then."

She shook her head and laughed. "Well, I'm confused now, anyway."

"Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers, or farmers. They don't fight."

"That's not a very comprehensive list."

"The laborers, soldiers, and ashkaari are men. There is nothing else left."

She shook her head. She'd figured out that the Qunari had some kind of caste system, but… "None of this makes any sense, Sten."

"Exactly."

Her head was starting to hurt. Elissa actually had her hand over Alistair's mouth. "We're going around in circles here."

"I don't know what to make of you. Perhaps this is a quality of Grey Wardens I had not heard about." He held out a hand. "A person is born: qunari, or human, or elven, or dwarf. He doesn't choose that. The size of his hands, whether he is clever or foolish, the land he comes from, the colour of his hair: These are beyond his control. We do not choose, we simply are."

She nodded. "But a person can choose what to do."

"Can they?" He gave her a considering look. "We'll see."

Daylen was more curious about Flemeth, he had read the legend about, but it seems so hard to imagine. Though, Theron clearly knew of her and seem to fear her a bit.

"Is Flemeth really what she seems to be?"

"Well that depends, does it not? What does she seem to be?" Morrigan raised an eyebrow at him.

Daylen shrugged. "A nutty old bat?"

Morrigan laughed. "Sometimes I do wonder the very same thing. Tell me: how much do you know of the tale? The one that the Chasind still tell of my mother, to frighten them into obedience?"

"I'm more interested in the truth."

"I can relay what Flemeth once told me, herself. And you can decide whether or not 'tis the truth. If you desire."

"That sounds interesting."

"As the tale is sung by the bards, there was a time when Flemeth was young and beautiful. A fair lass in a land of barbarian men, the desire of any who saw her."

"Just how long ago is this?"

"Many centuries, before this land was even named Ferelden. The tales say that Flemeth fell in love with Osen, the bard, and fled the castle of her husband, the dread Lord Conobar, and that he swore vengeance for her infidelity. In truth, my mother claims that 'twas Osen who was her husband, and Conobar the jealous lord who looked on from afar. Lord Conobar approached young Osen and offered him wealth and power in exchange for his lovely wife. And Osen agreed."

"Flemeth must have been angry."

"The life of a bard is a poor one, and love fades in the wake of hunger. 'Twas Flemeth who suggested the arrangement. All would have been well had Lord Conobar kept his end of the bargain. But he was a foul man who bargained with coin he did not possess. Osen was led off to a field and slain, left for dead. Flemeth spoke to the spirits and learned of the deed, and swore revenge."

"She spoke to spirits? Or demons?"

"Spirits first, and 'twas they who slew Conobar. Flemeth did not turn to the demon until… much later. Lord Conobar's allies chased Flemeth, you see. Chased her to the Wilds and there she hid. There she found the demon and he made her strong. The legends all speak of the great hero Cormac, he who defeated Flemeth and her great army when she invaded the lowlands centuries later. All lies."

"Which? She never invaded? Or he never defeated her?"

"The truth of the matter is that there never as an invasion. As Flemeth tells it, the Chasind never raised an army under her banner and she never fought with any warrior named Cormac. Cormac led a brutal civil war against his own people, and later claimed it was to vanquish evil that had taken root amongst the lords. Thus he was hailed a hero. Flemeth was only attached to the legend much later. Perhaps 'twas due to the great war with the Chasind that eventually came, but Mother claims not to know how it began."

"Do you believe her version?"

"I do not believe everything Flemeth claims. Often it seems her bitterness has coloured her memories. But on the whole? Yes. I believe this tale, if not all."

"How is it that Flemeth has survived for so long?"

"The demon within her has transformed her into… something else. An abomination, perhaps some would say. I know not. I only know my mother is clever. And she is part of the Wilds as it is part of her. But she is no immortal. She bleeds. A blade in her heart would kill her like any other, were it luck enough to find her."

"An interesting story. Thank you."

"Dare I ask of your own mother? Few are abominations of legend, 'tis true, but I find myself curious nevertheless."

"I do not have that many memories of her, I was seven or eight when I was brought to the circle. She didn't want the Templar to take me away, but they overpowered her. I remember seeing her crying as they took me away."

"You have my sympathies, for what it is worth. Which is very little, I am certain."

Alistair saw Elissa looking at him with mischief in her eyes. "Something you need, my dear?"

"Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"

"Not unless they were asking me for a favour. Well, there was that one time in Denerim, but those women were…" He paused to find the right words. "Not like you." He then looked at her curiously. "Why? Is this your way of telling me you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled at him slyly. "And if it is? What then?"

Alistair shrugged. "Oh, not much. I just get to grin a bit and look forward for while. So… is this the part where I get to say the same?"

"Not unless you don't think so."

"Oh, I think so. I'll just bring it on you when it's a surprise," he laughed.

He then noticed she was giving him the same mysterious look again. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"

"Never…? Never what? Had a good pair of shoes?"

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure I do." He gave her a teasing smile. "Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

She laughed. "Now you're making fun of me."

"Make fun of you, dear lady? Perish the thought." He elbowed her playfully. "Well, tell me: have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

She narrowed had her eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Ohhh, so that's where talking about. I'd admit I've never had a woman just… come out and ask me like this, that's a sure. I, myself, never had the pleasure. Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but… you know."

She blinked. "Oh, that's so cute. You're a virgin."

"Cute?" He raised an eyebrow. "Well, hearing that from a beautiful woman does make me feel much luckier, I'll say that."

"You think I'm beautiful?" She batted her eyes at him. Barkspawn bounded around them before running off ahead again.

"Of course you are, and you know it. You're ravishing, resourceful, and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

She leaned against him as they walked. "So glad you remembered."

"You two are just adorable," said Wynne.

Elissal giggled as Alistair started to blush.

Morrigan sat down next to him as they made camp. "I have been studying Mother's grimoire. Do you wish to hear what I have found?"

"What did you find?"

She shifted slightly, her face unsettled. "'Tis… not what I expected. I had hoped for a collection of her spells, a map of the power she commands. But this is not it."

He frowned. "Yet you look disturbed."

She sighed. "Disturbed? Yes, perhaps that is the right word. One thing in particular within her writings disturbs me." She laid a hand on the book. "Here, in great detail, Flemeth explains the means by which she has survived for centuries."

"A spell of immortality?" There were stories of such things, though none had ever seemed to hold a ring of truth.

"If only 'twere so." She gazed into the fire. "Flemeth has raised many daughters over her long lifetime. There are stories of many Witches of the Wild throughout Chasind legend, yet I have never seen one and always wondered why not." A horrified note crept into her voice. "And now I know. They are all Flemeth. When her body becomes old and wizened, she raises a daughter. And when the time is right, she takes her daughter's body for her own."

He closed his eyes, and then nodded. His eyes met her yellow ones. "So what do you intend to do about it?"

Her eyes were cold. "There is only one possible response to this: Flemeth needs to die." She threw a branch into the fire. "I will not sit about like an empty sack waiting to be filled. Flemeth must be slain." She sighed. "And I need your help to do it."

He nodded. "Very well. I'll help you, if I can."

Surprise filled her face, and then relief. "Then what needs to be done is for you to go back to Flemeth's hut in the Korcari Wilds… without me." She shook her head. "If I am present when she is slain, I cannot be certain that she will not be able to possess my body right then. So I must remain at camp. Confront her and slay her quickly. I doubt she will truly be dead even then, but it will take her years to find a new host and recover her power… if that is even possible." She frowned. "The thing I must have is her true grimoire. With it I can defend against her power in the future. Everything else in her hut is yours."

He twitched a shoulder. "I'll see what I can do"

"I am grateful. The sooner this can be done, the sooner it will set my mind at ease."

"We'll have to wait a bit, the south is riddled with darkspawn. We may have to wait until their ranks spread out a bit before getting anywhere near her hut."

Morrigan nodded. "Yes, it would be too dangerous to leave now."

Theron and Leliana were lying down on the grass as they looked up into the stars.

"I enjoy the nights at camp. The night always seems more peaceful, to me. Safer," said Leliana.

Theron smiled. "I know what you mean."

"I feel the night grants us a reprieve from the troubles of the day. Silly, isn't it? The darkspawn never sleep, and they lurk in the shadows."

"It is not silly to seek moments to lay down your burdens." He had to admit, it was nice just the two of them. With no spawn or other wardens within the range of his senses, the curious hum in the back of his mind faded enough for him to ignore it completely.

She rolled over to look at him. "I enjoy those nights when we stand guard together, talking to pass the time in those small hours… well, I talk and you listen, mostly…" She smiled. "Sometimes I succumb and fall asleep, and wake to find you still watchful and I know you're watching out for me."

"That's what friends do. Look out for each other."

"What I'm trying to say is…" She laid her hand on his arm. "Is that I trust you. I'm comfortable with you. I know you'll be there when I need you." She looked back up at the stars. "You are a wonderful storyteller, and my friend and sometimes I think that maybe we could be more than that… Maker… look at me, stumbling over my words like an ill-educated peasant girl. Some bard I am…"

He laughed. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm just… flushed because of… of the… heat," she finished lamely.

He laid back, arms folded behind his head. "Someone like you being interested in me is flattering." The lessons she'd been giving him were fascinating and he never thought he would feel this way to a human.

She tossed a handful of grass at him. "What, are you saying I have bad taste? Why can't I like you? You're a good person, a great listener, a… a remarkable warrior." He snorted. She laughed. "You often show signs of intelligence and you're fairly good looking…" She leaned over and poked him in the cheek. "Most of your facial features are in the right place…"

"Mas serannas. You're so complimentary."

"You're welcome. I try." She sighed. "There… isn't much more I can say. My feelings have been laid bare. You are… very special to me."

"I feel the same way, and I'm glad you do too." Even if they weren't, well, compatible, he did treasure his friendship with the woman.

She sputtered. "Really? N-no one told me. You… you felt the same way and didn't do me the courtesy of informing me?" He blinked as she sat up and glared at him. "Y-you made me say all those things! Why couldn't you have said them first? Oh, you… oh, how very awkward…"

He blinked in confusion. "I thought you were comfortable around me."

"Oh, chivalry is so dead. Making the lady spill her guts like that…"

"Your spilled guts make me feel loved and accepted," he said, trying to make a joke.

"Yes... I am fond of you and I care about you. I'll take first watch."

He nodded, and went to the tent, women were entirely different race.

With Zevran on one side and her on the other, the soldiers stood little chance. They slayed Bann Telmen's crops with pinpoint precision, those lessons that Isabella taught her were paying off. The man was grateful enough for their help. He had few soldiers, but Kallian was able to negotiate the provision of foodstuffs to help with the refugees trickling into Redcliffe.

They sat at a real table that night, with hot food and half-way decent ale. Zevran shrugged. "I did not thank you. It occurs to me now that you have freed me from the Crows, and yet I did not think to thank you for it. No matter why you did it, still it was done, and I the benefactor. So… thank you."

"We are friends, Zevran," said Kallian. "I'm were glad to do it."

He actually looked moved. "You say that so quickly, and yet it is an odd thing for me to hear. In the Crows, we do not have 'friends', and yet here you are and I cannot help but consider you such."

"I might think of you as more than a friend."

"I… must admit that I have thought of…" He blinked. "We?"

"We?"

"I simply had no idea you might…" He looked from one to the other, and his expression almost looked relieved. "Feel the same." He laughed. "How very novel."

"It has been some time since I left Lothering. When I stepped out of the cloister, I had no idea where my path would lead. I walked where the Maker led me and… He has rewarded me for my faith. I found you."

Theron smiled at her, and really hoped this wasn't going to be a repeat of the last very confusing conversation. "Are you saying I'm a gift from the Maker?"

She giggled. "Something like that. The Maker wants His children to be happy. Would He have created in us the capacity for love if He did not intend for us to find it?"

"Then I thank the Maker for bringing us together."

"You don't know how it makes me feel to hear you say that. But now it's getting late. I think I might… turn in early. I can't help thinking about how soft and warm my bedroll is."

He frowned. "You don't want to talk to me anymore?"

"Oh, of course I do. You know how I enjoy your company. But it's getting a little chilly and I'd prefer to be in my bedroll."

He tried to conceal his disappointment. He'd been looking forward to sharing some more stories. "I'm going to stay up and write in my journal."

She gave him a confused look. "I didn't know you had a journal. Or wrote in it regularly."

"Well, I decided to write a book about our adventures. As a Dalish I know how important it is to preserve the past."

"Well, maybe you could bring it to my tent and I could watch you write. I could give you suggestions." She mimicked holding a pen and writing. "Dear Journal… Leliana has shown much affection for me. Even asked me to come to bed with her, but alas, subtlety is lost on me."

"You want me to come to bed?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Oh, now he gets it."

A slow smile spread across his face. "I don't think I could turn down such a proposition."

She caught him by the front of the cloak and pulled him to his feet. "Good. Now come with me, before I lose my patience."

Next moment they both kiss in a passionate embrace and in a minute or two they stripped their armour off and looked at each other naked.

Theron then placed her down on her bedroll gently while she ran her fingers through his hair. He then inserted his length into and she moaned with pleasure and he slowly began to push in and out.

He then bit down on her neck and she grown even louder within his ear. Gradually he increased his speed and ran a hand over her breast for giving it a tight squeeze while squeezing her right buttock with his other hand.

All thoughts of the Blight seem to vanish as they made their love within the forest under the stars. All he could hear was Leliana's groans and moans and then they kissed each other, their tongues fighting for domain. He could hear her moan with in his mouth and his tongue finally won the fight.

Leliana then moved in a way that forced him to lay down on the ground and now she was riding on top of him. He ran his hand over her hips as she bounced up and down panting breathlessly. She then leaned in and kissed him on the lips and he could faintly see her ass rising up and down.

He then took this opportunity to roll over so he was now back on top of her. Theron didn't know his endurance was so strong, no doubt that had something to do with the Grey Warden ritual and finally Leliana couldn't hold on any longer and came. He, however, did not stop and kept on pushing in and out until he finally released into her.

He lay down next to her both of them exhausted after their… exuberance. He then slowly felt himself falling asleep with his arms around the woman he loved.

When he opened his eyes he found Leliana staring at him with her lovable caring look. "Hello."

He noticed that the sun was beginning to rise. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"I've been up for some time, but yes I slept very well," she said smiling down at him with a blissful look. "I've just been watching you sleep. Did you know that your eyelids flutter when you dream and you have such pretty eyelashes?"

Theron quite sure how to take this. "Uh… m-my eyelashes?"

She nodded. "They're like little butterflies. I want to catch them and keep them in a jar."

He shook his head. "You're teasing."

She smiled at him innocently. "Maybe? I'm so happy, blissfully, I haven't slept so well since I was forced to flee from Orlais. Knowing that you will be the first thing I see when I wake guess means no small amount of comfort. I feel safe in your arms, safe, loved and accepted. This is where I belong, thank you."

He just smiled at her. "Thank you."

She then got her feet. "I suppose we should get up, we have a long day ahead of us."

He looked at her seductively. "What's the hurry?"

She just shook her head. "Come on, darkspawn await with bated breath for you to put them out of them misery."

He then leaned in close to her. "And ignore the beautiful woman in my bed? I think not…"

She blinked. "What are you—" She then understood what he was getting at and smiled. "Oh… I see… hmm, I suppose the darkspawn will just have to wait a bit longer…"

Then the two of them kissed once again and fell down upon the bedroll again.