This is the final chapter of The Arrangement, with a short epilogue to follow. A few kudos are in order.

Any thanks must start with the Makers- the Dragon Age writers- in particular David Gaider and Mary Kirby, the talent behind Loghain Mac Tir. They did the hard work. I'm sorry for fondling your characters. Not too sorry, of course. I owe additional debts of inspiration to George R. R. Martin and more recently to Cecelia Holland, in particular her novel Great Maria.

Without SurelyForth's prodding, this story would never have seen the light of day. After encouraging me to write it, she then proceeded to patiently preview each chapter and keep my spirits up. It's truly all her fault. Gareth owes Surely a debt, too, for giving him a friend in Kirkwall. Her character, Wilhelmina, is "the" Hawke in The Arrangement. In a universe where Wil Hawke is not fostering exiled Mac Tirs, she lives in the stories Maps and Legends and Life and How to Live It.

Thanks also are due to the regulars of the Loghain fan thread at BSN. Because of them, I had a Ph.D. in Loghain before I wrote a single word. Thanks, guys, for embracing a "hater."

To my readers: Wow. You absolutely blew me away. I am amazed and gratified that anyone would read my drivel, let alone offer so many kind reviews and notes on BSN. If anyone ever asks me why I spent hours of my life writing a story with someone else's characters, I'll tell them that a big reason is the built-in community.

A little more than a year ago, I sent the first two chapters of this story to SurelyForth with comments amounting to "am I crazy?," "people will hate this," and "why do I love it so much?" I did not want to write a long fanfiction epic, but the story would not let me go. Following the madness has been quite an experience. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Now, the archdemon awaits...

6 Bloomingtide, 9:31 Dragon Age. Moor Cleghan, off the West Road.

There were few dice games or drunken songs as might have otherwise cropped up in an army camp. They had only a few hours to rest before the army would march again, and there was little food. Nothing was to be had in Denerim at any price. They had marched too quickly to scour the countryside. The Wardens were counting on there being more food at the other end of the march, in Redcliffe.

Loghain made the rounds of his officers, who were all tired but in good spirits. Despite their misgivings about taking commands from a young Warden, they were glad to have Loghain with them and to be marching, not lingering around Denerim watching their places be usurped by Howe bootlickers. They didn't care that Loghain had no title. They had never cared about that.

There was more trouble on Ellie's side of the camp. Highever and Bannorn forces had joined them on the way west, and there was squabbling. As he passed by, Loghain heard men shouting and Ellie's voice among them, mediating. He had to smile a little. By now she must know that not even the Maker himself had patience enough to lead a Bannorn army. He heard his own name and understood that the argument was about her support of him at the Landsmeet. His smile vanished, but an appearance would surely make things worse for Ellie. She had made her own choices.

Briefly he checked in on the royal tents. Anora had insisted on accompanying the army. Though Loghain was worried, it had not proven a bad idea. She wanted people to see her, to know that she was in charge. All along the march, crowds had come out to see the army pass by. They cheered lightly for the Wardens, far more heartily when they recognized the queen. Loghain would see she stayed in the middle column, well away from any fighting.

Anora was well attended and weary from riding, so Loghain left her and went out. Everyone was tired, and soon even the Bannorn side seemed to quiet down. He found a spot among the Gwaren troops and laid out his bedroll. A squire helped him out of his armor, taking it away to be cleaned. As Loghain was stretching out on his side, he heard a light step behind him and the clink of mail.

"Loghain."

He started, turning. "Ellie. Everything alright?"

In the darkness he couldn't see her face, only her outline. "I'm fine." She hesitated, then said, "I have a tent."

Loghain tensed as he caught the implication. "I'm fine here."

"It's not for you. I'm asking for me."

His brow shot up, but he made no reply. Rolling to his feet, Loghain looked around and brushed himself nervously, then turned to follow Ellie through the camp. His heart was pounding, though he managed to keep his hands from shaking as he helped her undo the straps on her mail. The camp was crowded, and Loghain could feel eyes on them. He ignored the looks.

Inside the small tent, there was hardly room for two. Loghain sat beside Ellie and she put her arms on his shoulders, gazing at him, so close their breath mingled. "Thank you," she said softly. "I'm scared, Loghain. I didn't think I would be, but I am. Fergus is so afraid. So are you, I think."

So that was the explanation. Even if Ellie wanted only his comfort, in the close quarters of the tent there was no way to hide from her that he was already aroused. Acutely aware of the light pressure of her hip against his groin, Loghain swallowed, grasping for a coherent word. To his relief, she said nothing more, only laid her mouth against his, her tongue slipping out a moment later to touch his lips. He groaned and shifted, opening to the kiss. She took charge and he allowed it gladly, too gone with lust to wonder at this turn.

There was something about the darkspawn blood in them. Fergus had mentioned it, blushing like a maid as he explained that the taint accelerated hunger and other physical appetites. It had also been months since Loghain had been with his wife. Whatever the reason, he was straight and hard as an unseasoned youth. Ellie apparently noticed, as well. She slid herself onto him, and gave a yelp of surprise when he grasped her hips to settle more deeply. Afterward he let her move on him as she would, his arm clenched around her waist to help her leverage. The others outside the tent would hear, he knew, but didn't care.

It was over too soon, and even as she shifted to let him slide out, he wanted to do it again. Instead he held her, face laid against her neck and still breathing hard. Ellie stayed close, limbs snaked around him. Loghain stroked her back with one hand, resisting the exhaustion that dragged on him. She turned her face and kissed languidly at his cheek and mouth. Finally she rested her forehead against his cheek and murmured, "I have missed you."

He sucked in a breath. Words were inadequate, so he said nothing. They only had a few hours, and what lay at the end of the march in Redcliffe was uncertain. She needed sleep, they both did, but for once he could not even say the practical thing.

Some time later Ellie stirred and lifted her head. "I spoke with the Grand Cleric. She said you sent her to me."

He had indeed done so, back in Denerim, knowing Ellie would hesitate to seek an annulment on her own accord. It had not been easy. "This is the right thing, Ellie. You know it."

"You understand nothing." Her tone was still slack with tiredness, but reproachful. "All these years you have been with me, made a child with me, and you still don't know me at all."

"I know you too well," he said. Their embrace loosened, and he regarded her across the small space. "You're not going to do it."

"No, I'm not. You want an out, Loghain, and I'm not giving it to you."

"Maker's breath, stubborn as ever." He smiled a little as he said it, touching her face and then resting his hand on her back once more. In spite of his better inclinations, he was glad. None of it was likely to matter anyway. After seeing the darkspawn minions and the archdemon in his dreams, Loghain finally understood the magnitude of what they faced. There was little chance any of them would survive. He had had to plan as if they would, but did not believe it. She might, at any rate. In his dreams now, he saw what his own end would be. If he was afraid, it was for her.

As if reading his thoughts, Ellie said, "I do not give you leave to die for us. I know that's what you want to do now, after the Landsmeet."

"You think the darkspawn will take your opinion into account?"

"I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you. We need you. Not as a martyr, but as a father, as my husband. I want you back."

The pain of these words was unexpected, and Loghain wished she hadn't said it. "You shouldn't be thinking about this, Ellie," he said wearily. "It will only make tomorrow more difficult. You admitted that you're frightened. If you cling to me, you won't be able to lead your men."

"Don't throw that back at me!" She pushed angrily at his chest. "I know what I have to do tomorrow. I beat you, or have you forgotten?"

At another time he might have been angry, but instead he laughed. It must be the sex, the smell of her skin. In the background of his mind were the whispers of the archdemon. He was drunk on it all, too tired and too close to the frail edge between life and death to be speculative. Somehow, beneath his conscious mind, the idea that Ellie had been his adversary delighted him. "So you did," Loghain replied, smiling, his cock stirring against her leg.

"And maybe I need to remember what I'm fighting for," she added, still arguing.

Loghain shifted under her, wedged a knee between Ellie's legs to open them. She was slick with his fluid and her own. He rolled her to her back, resisting the urge to enter her immediately. Instead he lifted her tunic up with one hand, the other pressing her shoulder back against the bedroll. Hungrily he followed the contours of her belly and then her breasts with his fingers, wishing for a lamp so that he could see her. Under his touch, Ellie relaxed, and he firmed the grasp on one breast, teasing at its point. He bent, nipped at it with his tongue. He would be patient now. This had always been better when he could manage it, this waiting. Only when Ellie was already poised at a brink did he slip his hand between her thighs, circling and stroking her gently until she lifted her hips against his hand and came with a stifled groan. The sound was so arresting that he was tempted to grasp himself and finish it.

Rejecting that notion, Loghain bent down, pressed a kiss to her mouth and slid into her. Even then he checked himself, the satisfaction of holding Ellie beneath him and jabbing into her too good to end quickly. Just for a few moments to be nothing but a man with a woman, not a teyrn, with no duty or argument coming between them, that was a relief he had not thought to have again. Sometimes Ellie had lain quietly when he took her like this, but more often she grappled back, clutching him, and that made it infinitely better. So she did now, urging him on.

Afterward they lay side by side, his arm looped over her shoulder. She was slumped against him, relaxed, the built-up distance between them gone. Loghain kissed at her ear and she mumbled, already sleeping. He reached across to loosen a vent flap and let some air into the tent, then did not fight his own tiredness. It seemed that he had only just closed his eyes when a squire came scratching on the front of the tent, calling for them to wake.

Ellie was quiet as he helped affix her armor, giving him knowing glances. Both of them were shy, remembering their night and feeling hurried into the bleakness of the day before them. There were shouts and grumbling as the men got each other awake and stumbled around trying to remember where the privies were.

"This is fine mail," Loghain said, choosing a neutral topic. "Red steel, isn't it? Not as good as your silverite." That was in Gwaren somewhere, he suspected. Or in Antiva by now, sold off by looters.

"This will do." Her face was hard again, and she glanced across his shoulder, already thinking of all that had to be done.

He caught her chin in one hand, and bent to kiss her, brief and gentle. "Thank you," he said as he released her, meaning to thank her for all that she had said and done that night.

She was silent a moment, tasting her lips, and allowed a hint of smile. "I told you that it was for me, not for you."

"All the same." He hesitated, then sobered and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I don't think it matters, but for what it's worth, I don't want to die. I want to come back to you, since you are so foolish as to have me."

Ellie sighed and nodded. "Thank you, Loghain. It does matter, to me."

Her words cut off as a squire approached and stopped nearby, holding Loghain's armor. Loghain glanced at him, then back at Ellie. He kissed her quickly and said, "I'm glad." They clasped hands and then he let her go.

Ellie was about to pass by the little chapel and stopped, looking in. A few arlsguard were there, huddled in private prayers. Candles flickered in the dim hall. A maid was fiddling with the brazier. The Revered Mother had been killed in the attack on Redcliffe Castle, the details of which Lieutenant Riven refused to discuss with anyone but Loghain. Thinking about the deaths here, Ellie had a sudden, pained memory of Mother Mallol. It had been long since she had last attended a Chant. The last time had been before the massacre at Highever. It seemed hypocritical to pray now, when all she wanted to do was beg.

They had had a long day's marching down the West Road, and as they neared Redcliffe late that night, scouts went out regularly but returned with the peculiar news that no darkspawn had been seen at all. Only when they got close to the village did the Warden army hear otherwise. There had been battle in the village and around the castle, but Riven's forces had easily prevailed. The bulk of the force was camped at the muster grounds near Rainesfaire, while Anora, Ellie, Loghain and the rest of the Warden party had come up to the castle.

Here they heard the news that Riordan believed the attack on Redcliffe only a feint for a much larger attack, probably on Denerim. Ellie had expected Loghain to grumble about this terrible misjudgment, but he did not. The Joining had made him milder on such matters. The creatures used the Deep Roads, he said, and there were so many of them that they could afford such feints. There was nothing to do but prepare to march back in as much haste as the royal army had come. The men needed rest, however, and the quartermasters needed time to get food. Orzammar's forces had begun arriving but after their long march they also needed time to form up. The officers would spend the night in the castle and hope to march at first light.

A woman's voice spoke at Ellie's elbow as she lingered. "Will you pray with me, Teyrna?"

Ellie turned, startled. She had met Isolde a few times in Denerim and had always found her haughty and distant. Eleanor Cousland had said that these were walls against the mistrust of the other nobles for the Orlesian woman. Isolde did not look haughty now. Her face was lined and her eyes bruised looking and haunted.

"Arlessa. I'm not sure..." Ellie began. Upstairs, Isolde's husband lay in a coma and would likely die, a result of Loghain's actions. That Isolde spoke to her with anything but hatred put Ellie on guard.

"Please. Let us pray for our sons, yours and mine."

Not knowing how to refuse, Ellie nodded once and followed Isolde into the chapel. Before the brazier the arlessa knelt down on one knee and Ellie followed, her armor clanking lightly. It was awkward and painful to kneel on greaves, but she took this as a penance, and clasped her hands together. Isolde began to pray out loud, following the ritual chant. At first she began in the common tongue but as her prayers grew more fervent and personal, she slipped into Orlesian. Ellie listened silently, eyes closed. Her mind turned to the time she had visited the Great Cathedral in Val Royeux. She had missed her son so much then that in an off-guard moment she would start, wondering where he was. Ellie no longer expected to see her son around the corner. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

"Gareth," she said softly, and when Isolde paused in her prayers, Ellie realized that she had said the name aloud. Awkwardly she continued on, "Holy Maker, keep my son. Guard all the children, the helpless ones. When this is over, let them remember how to laugh again and to not be afraid. Keep Connor Guerrin at your side and smile on him. Comfort his mother. Help us fight for all their sakes." It was not much of a prayer, and her voice was shaking. She could think of nothing else, so Ellie stopped, feeling self-conscious, and rose to her feet.

Isolde remained on her knee, but glanced up at Ellie and gave her a sad smile. "Thank you." As Ellie left she heard the arlessa resume her whispered prayers.

Back in her chamber, Fergus was waiting for her. He sat in a chair, elbows on his knees, head hanging. "Brother," Ellie said as she entered, "You look more dismal than I feel. Don't be so hard on yourself. Riordan thought the attack would fall on Redcliffe, too."

"It's not that."

Ellie lifted a brow. "Alright then. While you mope, help me out of this armor."

Fergus rose from his chair and complied. After a moment's silence he said, "You know how even when there's death all around you, coming at you so fast you can't do anything but just lash back at it, how even then you need to feel that there's a limit to it, that there's a line you wouldn't cross? No matter what it cost you or... or someone else?"

"Fergus, you can start making sense any time now," Ellie said, eyeing him. He only shook his head, frustrated. Whatever this was, it was obviously bothering him a great deal. She sobered, and went on quietly, "I don't think that I've told you yet, brother, how proud I am of you for all that you've done. Mother and Father would be proud, too."

His mouth worked briefly. They lifted Ellie's mail shirt over her head, and when she had settled her tunic, she saw that Fergus was staring at her as though trying to size something up. "I saw you and Loghain walking together last night." He waited for her nod before continuing. "When this is all over, do you think that he and you will want to... if you can, I mean. Do you still love him, in that way?"

Despite the gibberish, Ellie understood the question. "I know that it may be hard for others to understand, after everything. I don't know what will be possible, but I do hope that we can have something. I do love him in that way." It felt good to say it. Loghain was too practical, and shouldered too much blame to allow himself to picture a future. Someone had to be the hopeful one.

Fergus was still watching her, considering. He did not look relieved, but eventually nodded, his voice grave. "I see. Thank you. I didn't mean to pry."

Ellie was still puzzled at what this was, but she let it go. Loghain came in while they were finishing with her leg pieces. He and Fergus exchanged a pointed look, and when Ellie noticed, she glanced between the two men and the unease grew. While they discussed whether to leave men behind in Redcliffe, she went in to the washroom to clean herself and dress for bed. Fergus was gone when she came out, and Loghain was sitting in much the same she had found her brother, with his head hanging.

"What is going on?"

"Nothing." Loghain lifted his head and smiled at her. Glancing at the bed, he shifted, looking sheepish. "May I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course."

He rose and went to take his turn in the washroom. While he was occupied there, Ellie brought her pack to the bed and began pawing through its contents, organizing them. Her hand fell on a black vial Neria had given her. It held an elixir meant to give protection against the darkspawn taint. The Warden party had been using up their small store already. Ellie stared at the precious liquid. It made her guilty to think of taking this, knowing that in any fight with the darkspawn, some who survived the battle would die later of Blight disease. She told herself that it was for Gareth's sake that she would.

Loghain came out, tossed his clothes over a chair, and slid in behind her on the bed. Running a finger along her neck, he said, "I could get used to this shorter hair."

Ellie shivered at the touch, but she was not going to let him off so easily. "Tell me what is going on. Why you and Fergus look so glum."

"You don't need to know."

"Stop that, Loghain." Half-turning so that he could see her scowl, she said, "Stop trying to shield me. If we've learned anything from these past months, it's that we can't hide things from one another."

Loghain frowned and the hand stopped its motion, resting on the small of her back. "As you wish." He told her, then, about another Warden secret, about what was required to see the archdemon destroyed for good. Ellie remained still, listening. Of the three in all Ferelden who could do this thing, one was her husband and the other was her brother, the only remaining family she had. It was one thing to think you might die in battle; quite another to know that you could not win unless someone you loved died for you. Ellie wondered if this was what a death sentence felt like, or if it was worse.

"Find more Wardens," she said, mind moving frantically. "Conscript them if you have to."

Loghain shook his head. "Whatever it was they gave me to make me a Warden, there is not enough of it. I got the last."

"What about the Orlesians?"

"It is doubtful they will make it in time." He stroked her back, and Ellie marveled at how calm he was. His expression was sad, resigned, but seemed more taken with looking at her than with what he had just told her. "Don't fret, Ellie," he said, entreating. "One life, that is not too much to trade for destroying this thing. Let's not talk about it anymore. Here, let me see you."

He tugged at her nightdress, and Ellie gave in, though her mind still reeled. His hands grasping her shoulders, Loghain laid her back and rested on one elbow at her side. He swept a hand up her stomach, eyes following the motion and then holding hers as he leaned in to kiss her. After some time of this he stopped and pressed on her side, turning her over to her stomach. His hand moved down and rested at the curve of her bottom, and Ellie heard his breathing grow more ragged.

She swallowed, aroused in spite of herself. He bent and kissed her shoulder and then around to her neck. Finally his hands moved in behind her and opened her legs. The nagging fears receded as lust took them over. By the time she rose to her knees, Ellie held the dragon at bay in a distant corner of her mind, the fear only giving an edge of desperation to it all. They slept a little, then woke and made love again, then slept some more. With dawn gloom filtering in the window, Ellie lay staring at it, and the fear came back in force. She was sore and spent, but when Loghain stirred she held him there, not letting him leave.

"Come on," he said at last, nuzzling at her ear and then rolling away, pulling her hand after him. "Let's get it over with."

With that phrase echoing in mind, Ellie took to the long trudging with a heartsick determination to get past whatever waited for them. When at last they crested a rise in the North Road and saw Denerim burning, a choking anger overtook her fear. The whole army felt it. Only moments before they had been weary and bleak-faced, but now the soldiers roared and shook their weapons in the air. For a time Ellie and the other officers were occupied with holding them back long enough to organize. As Ellie rode back and forth, firming up the lines, she heard calls of "For the Fox!" along with the usual cries for Ferelden and their homes. The men had not called her that since the Landsmeet, but battle anger had erased their resentments.

They held the majority in reserve and took a forward force to clear the field ahead and break through the west gates. Most of the darkspawn were already inside the city. When the first forces had secured the gate, they held there to wait for the rest of the army to come up.

While she waited, Ellie's eyes followed the black shape that careened and whirled over the castle mount. The dragon. Across lines of soldiers, she saw Fergus looking at it, too. Loghain was not. He was huddled with his men over a map of Denerim, pointing and arguing. Turning her eyes back, Ellie watched the archdemon wheel and float in a long dive. It disappeared among the buildings and then soared up again, dark spots falling from its claws back to earth as it rose into the air. Men, Ellie realized. It was tossing men around like chaff. There were shouts of dismay around her, from the other soldiers who had seen. That sound brought Ellie out of her stupor. Loghain was right not to look. The men should not see her afraid. She steeled herself and turned back to get her orders.

Ellie woke, gasping and choking on her own blood from where she had bitten into her tongue. She clutched at her helmet, tearing it off. My sword. Holy Maker, where is my sword? It was nowhere to be seen, but she spotted a discarded blade a short distance away. Crawling towards it across the blood-spattered stones, breath coming in ragged gasps, Ellie swiveled her head to watch for an enemy approach. Not long before the rooftop of Fort Drakon had been crawling with darkspawn, but now she saw only bodies. Sword again in hand, Ellie flipped over and wiped at the muck on her face, trying to figure out what was happening. They had been fighting the archdemon, trying desperately to score the thick hide while fighting off his enraged minions at the same time. Something must have knocked her back, and impossibly far. It was too quiet. There was crying, men groaning out, but the dragon's roar had stilled. Maybe it was already dead.

Loghain. Fergus. If the dragon was dead, then so would one of them be. They had seen Riordan fall from the archdemon's back before they even got to the tower.

Ellie fought to her feet and stumbled forward, almost tripping over a wounded darkspawn. It was screeching, a horrible, pitiful sound. With a shout, Ellie drove her sword down through its open maw, silencing it. She moved on. The other darkspawn she saw weren't fighting anymore, only shrieking and running in circles. With a frenzied satisfaction Ellie cut down a few more, making her way up the slope of the roof's floor toward where they had been fighting the dragon.

She saw its hulk lying still. Soldiers, some of them wounded, moved past her toward the stair. "Where are the Grey Wardens?" she shouted. At first none answered, but finally one of the soldiers pointed.

Ellie ran in that direction and saw Fergus bent over, struggling to his feet with the help of a militia man. "Oh thank Andraste," Ellie gasped as she reached him. "Where is Loghain?"

Fergus shrugged and straightened, obviously pained with wounds but standing of his own accord. Together they looked, turning over bodies. At last they found him, lying tossed against the platform wall like a doll. With a shout Ellie ran, knelt to grasp at her husband's shoulders and rolled him to his back. Pulling off her gloves, she brushed at his face, wiping the blood and black darkspawn filth from his eyes.

"Loghain," she said, voice hoarse with fear. "Loghain. My love, wake up." She shook him, willing him to open his eyes.

Fergus knelt beside her, then slowly reached a hand past Ellie's shoulder and put his fingertips to Loghain's throat. A look crossed her brother's face that Ellie could not read and feared to interpret. It might have been amazement.

4 Kingsway, 9:31 Dragon Age. Highever.

Gareth ran on ahead, up the slope toward the older part of the castle. It was his first time in the vast keep since he was a baby, and just as Ellie and Fergus had done when they were little, he found no end of delight in exploring its hidden corners.

"Don't go too far," Ellie called uselessly.

She caught up to him as he was pushing on the iron grate of the old dovecote. "What is it, mamma?"

"It's where they used to keep the carrier birds before we had a post. And the dinner birds, too, I suppose." Ellie stepped behind him and brought out her castle key, unlocking the grate and pushing on it. It swung back with a rusty groan. Gareth ran in, and Ellie bent to follow him. Autumn sun streamed through the ruined roof and lit the dust kicked up by their footsteps. "Your uncle Fergus and I used to climb here," she said, squinting up to the ceiling.

Gareth had already spied the convenient chinks in the round wall, and began spidering his way up the side. Ellie sat on an overturned barrow and watched him, remembering the day that she and Fergus had almost fallen here. It had been an instructive event for a brash, overconfident young girl. Because of her carelessness, Fergus might have been hurt badly. In the end, she had caught him and they climbed down together, still shaking, each later trying to convince the other they hadn't really been scared. Sometimes, even when you deserved it, the worst didn't happen.

"Come down now, Gareth."

Eventually he obeyed her. Outside, they made their way through the deserted courtyard and climbed up the slope of a collapsed battlement. It had long since been overgrown with a thick carpet of moss, as if the castle would here submit to becoming a hillside. Only at the very top was the worked stone visible, the jutting remnants of a tower. It was on the seaward side of the castle and far below they could see the village, beyond it the harbor with its crowded sails. A cutter was coming in from the Waking Sea.

Gareth ran on a bit, exploring, finally coming back to lean against her shoulder and watch the ship. "Where's it coming from, mamma?" he asked, pointing, then turned serious eyes on her. "From Kirkwall?"

Ellie bit her lip at that name. "Oh, I don't think so. It looks like it's coming in from the east, wouldn't you say?"

"Mm."

She glanced surreptitiously at the boy. His eyes were hers, but with his brow knit and in profile, Gareth was much his father. He had been home only one week and was still more withdrawn than he had been even before the war. It was as if he did not trust that what he saw around him would last. He would not talk about Anya at all.

"Gareth. I want to say something to you," Ellie said quietly. He turned toward her, and she ignored the suspicious look, pressing on. "You know I would never have sent you away except to save your life, don't you? I didn't want to leave you. That was the hardest thing I ever did." Her voice caught and, unwillingly, her eyes filled.

Her son mumbled something and straightened, his face drooping. He clearly wanted to be elsewhere. Quickly Ellie said, "I'm not crying because I'm sad, Gareth. I'm happy. I'm just very happy to have you here with me, that's all."

That was a little safer. Gareth nodded, even allowed a brief smile, and looked up shyly at her. "Your hair is short now," he said, as though noticing it for the first time. "Like Wil's."

Wil was Wilhelmina, Anya's kinswoman, with whom they had shared a hovel in Kirkwall. That Gareth would talk about the place was an opening. Cautiously Ellie took it, asking, "Were they good to you? Did you like her?"

Gareth nodded and shifted his gaze back to the ships. She thought that might be close of the subject, but a moment later he brightened and volunteered, "Wil's got a mabari. Like Cutha, only not as old. And she taught me how to use a sword. I can't hold a real one for too long. Not yet."

"That was very nice of her." Despite herself, Ellie felt a pang of jealousy, and a helpless gratitude. She owed this family everything, strangers who had no reason at all to risk themselves for her little boy. There was no way to repay a debt like this. She felt like crying again, and sniffed, trying to stem it.

A moment later she felt Gareth's finger, grubby and roughened from hard play, brush over her cheek. He was tracing the jagged scar there, his face thoughtful. Ellie had gotten it from the rim of her own helmet mask, smashed into her face by a Bannorn mace. Though the helmet had saved her, she might still have died but for the mages. She held herself still, then smiled at Gareth when his hand fell away. He stood next to her a few minutes more, rocking with nervous boy energy, and finally whirled away and ran up the hillside, shouting as if a berserker army were coming over the battlements. It took some effort to get him back to the family rooms for dinner.

That night, Loghain and Fergus returned to Highever, a week earlier than Ellie had expected them. After the Battle of Denerim, the remnants of the darkspawn horde had fled in every direction, some of them east toward Amaranthine, some west toward Orlais. The Wardens gave chase until they were satisfied the last bands had gone into the Deep Roads. In the meantime Ellie had boarded the first ship she could find going to Kirkwall.

Gareth was already asleep when the men came in, but Ellie took Loghain to look in on him. The boy woke while they stood in his doorway. "Mamma?" he asked, sitting up. His voice was fearful. Nighttime visitors had rarely meant anything good in his experience.

Loghain went forward and sat down on the edge of the bed. When Gareth realized who the figure was, he made a small noise of astonishment and launched into Loghain's arms. A few moments later Ellie was shocked to hear the boy begin to cry. He had not shed a single tear since she saw him on the pier at Kirkwall. Now, the more tightly his father held him, the more fiercely Gareth cried. Still half-asleep and caught off guard, his defenses had fallen. It was right, Ellie knew, but it cut her to the heart to hear this proof of the anguish and lostness of her son's last year. Finally Loghain slipped from Gareth's arms and held the boy's face, kissing the tears from his cheeks, his own eyes streaming.

"It thought you'd die," Gareth said, his voice hitching between sobs. "I thought you'd die."

Loghain shook his head, his own voice strained. "No. No, I didn't die, lieutenant." He pressed an earnest kiss to Gareth's forehead, then held him against his chest until the boy's crying eased.

Gareth refused to go back to bed, so Loghain lifted him up and carried him out to the parlor. Ellie sat with them, listening to Gareth's plapper. When their son had finally fallen asleep against Loghain's side, they talked a while about the darkspawn and the news from Highever.

"Where is Anya?" Loghain asked, his hand ruffling slowly over his sleeping son's hair.

Ellie scowled, so enraged that it took he a moment to answer. When she did, she spat out the words. "The templars took her, Maker damn them all. She was alone at home with Gareth when they came. They took him, too, in case he was a mage, but let him go a few days later. Alun says it's something about Anya's family. The authorities wanted a lever on this woman Hawke."

Loghain looked unexpectedly sorrowful. He glanced down at Gareth, his jaw set. "I'll ask Anora to look into it."

"I have to get her out, Loghain," Ellie said, keeping her voice down so as not to wake the child. "I fought with them as much as I dared, but I was afraid to do more with Gareth still in Kirkwall. That place... even with the Blight, Ferelden is a haven compared to that place."

"Anora will see to it. Come. Let's get him back to bed."

Loghain lifted Gareth and carried him back to his room. Before they got to the hallway again, Loghain caught Ellie and drew her to him, kissing her. Eventually she sank against the wall, taking him with her. Against her ear he said, "I have to go to Montsimmard."

She tensed. It was part of Anora's deal with Redcliffe and the banns, but Ellie had guessed Loghain would be sent somewhere in the Free Marches. Pulling back to look at him, she asked, "Orlais? Is that someone's idea of a joke?"

He let out a wry laugh. "My daughter's, evidently. Anora also asked that you come down for the wedding and that bastard's coronation. She wants to speak with you. I'll leave from there, I imagine."

Ellie's heart sank. The wedding was only a few weeks away. She had known that it could not last, but knowing did not make it easier. Still, they had been spared the worst. It was something. Reaching up, Ellie drew Loghain's mouth down to hers again. There was little time, and none to waste.