Alistair's chest and shoulders fell with a heavy sigh as he leaned against the ship's rail. He was exhausted, but given the events of the last few days, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if he tried. That trek through the tower had flipped his world completely upside down, and he was unsure how to feel about it all.

First, there was Solona shamelessly throwing herself at Garrett. Alistair should have known when she told him her plans to conscript Anders that any chance of a relationship between them was gone. Still, he hoped that, eventually, she might come around in the end. When he spied her lying on the bed in the pirate's quarters upon the captain opening the door, her body exposed and awaiting the man's arrival, Alistair became fully aware that all hope was lost. Apparently she had a type, and he just wasn't it.

Then there was Miriana, ever so shy and sweet. She was the kind of woman Alistair could definitely see himself getting closer to. There was only one problem with that. Like Solona, she seemed only to be interested in the captain. Not only had he recognized the heartache in her lapis eyes while her sister was flirting with the pirate, but when Garrett returned to the ship, Miriana's gaze remained on him as he maneuvered his way around the deck until Alistair accompanied her to her cabin. At least he hadn't fallen for Miriana completely, the way he had her twin, but the slight still stung a bit.

Face it jackass. No woman is going to find any interest in you with him around.

It wasn't as if either of the twins would find favor in him, anyway. They were obviously not the type of women whose heads were turned by the promise of being with someone of royal lineage. In fact, they seemed quite the opposite, though Alistair appreciated that Miriana took the news of his birthright with nothing more than mild shock. She was very gracious about the whole thing. She simply smiled and said, "Oh," then shook his hand and continued to let him talk, uninterrupted, about his brother and Ostagar.

When he realized she was distracted by Garrett's presence and no longer paying attention to the conversation, he offered to escort her to her quarters and she appeared grateful to accept. When they arrived at her cabin, she opened the door and turned to face him, but refused to look him in the eye.

"Thank you," she said in a soft voice. "Perhaps we can speak again later."

Although he wished it to be otherwise, Alistair was sure her suggestion was most likely a gesture of kindness more than a genuine desire to chat with him again. Her interests lay elsewhere, not with him. He wasn't even certain if she was willing to see him as a friend, given her avoidance in meeting his gaze throughout much of their exchange, though he hoped that might change in the future. Considering the fact that she had been conscripted, they would be forced to spend time together. Perhaps after the captain left when they returned to Redcliffe…No, he wasn't going to get his hopes up just to have them dashed again.

He turned his head and stared at the door of Garrett's cabin for several moments before returning his attention to the water with another sigh. Solona was in there with the pirate, and Alistair didn't need to see to know what was happening inside.

The rub of it was, he wasn't sure if he was more jealous of Garrett or Solona. Not that he had any feelings for the captain. He didn't even really know the man, but sexually, Alistair wanted Garrett more than he would ever admit. Unfortunately, the pirate made it quite clear he held no interest in sleeping with other men, which meant that Alistair was out of luck on every angle. Even if he gave up the notion of saving himself for the right person and was more amenable to indiscriminate sex, he had absolutely no chance to fulfill that secret fantasy.

The Warden felt a gentle hand pat his shoulder just before Wynne appeared at his side and settled herself against the rail. She brushed stray tendrils of silver hair away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. She was much older than Alistair, probably old enough to be his grandmother, in fact, leaving him to wonder if she possessed wisdom to match her years. Solona seemed to have no use for the woman, but, then again, Solona didn't have any use for most people.

"You're quite taken with her, aren't you?" she asked. "Solona, I mean."

"What makes you say that?" Alistair retorted, knowing full well the woman could see right through his attempted guise.

Wynne gestured to the captain's cabin with a nod. "That's just the way she is. It's a condition quite common in the Circle. Real emotion is discouraged, but simple trysts are not, as long as the mages involved are careful regarding matters of conception. Her sexual escapades and conquests mean very little to Solona. As far as I know, she's only had feelings for one man."

"Anders," Alistair muttered.

The enchanter bobbed her head. "Yes. She told you about him and their doomed relationship, then?"

"A bit," he confessed. "She doesn't like to talk about him much."

"I can understand why. As many times as Anders ran away from the tower, away from her, you'd think she'd have gotten over him by now…But she hasn't. Even upon discovering the news of his death, she still can't let go. I don't think she ever will. This thing with the captain, it's simply what we mages like to refer to as a distraction. Solona has only ever loved Anders, and I don't see that changing anytime soon."

"So, what you're saying is, I haven't got a prayer with her," Alistair surmised.

Wynne shrugged. "I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but no. I'm sorry, you really don't. Besides, your duty as a Grey Warden and future king demands that you are called to a higher purpose." When Alistair raised a questioning brow upon hearing her knowledge of his birthright, she gave a small chuckle. "I overheard you speaking with Solona's sister. You weren't exactly quiet about it, you know."

He chided himself for such blatant indiscretion and wondered how many others aboard knew his secret. He supposed it didn't really matter much anymore. They would likely all discover the truth when they arrived at Redcliffe Castle.

"You were saying?" he drawled, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible while dying on the inside.

The second Wynne confirmed his most dreaded suspicions regarding his chances with Solona, Alistair swore his heart cracked. The pain gripping the walls of his chest was damned near unbearable. The only thing he was truly grateful for at that moment was the fact that his stomach was empty, which kept the rising bile in his throat from spewing onto the deck. Even after everything he had been through, he had never felt more miserable in his life than he did right then, but he had to at least try to keep it together enough to finish the present conversation.

"All I'm saying is, distractions are fine. In fact, before you take the throne, they are something I would encourage, but you need to keep your emotions in check. As king, you don't have the luxury to fall in love, and as a Warden with a Blight raging all around you, you have neither the time nor the need. Your duty to the future of Ferelden should always come first, above anything else, especially your personal desires.

"You and I both know that, even if Solona was amenable to a real relationship with you, it could never be a lasting one. She is a mage. Nothing can ever come of it but a broken heart for one or both of you. Sex is a temporary distraction, but love…Love is a long term and dangerous one neither of you can afford."

Tears began to well up in Alistair's eyes as he watched the water part in waves around the hull of the ship. The enchanter was being overly harsh in her delivery, but she wasn't wrong. He was going to be king. It didn't matter what he wanted. Like Cailan, he would be forced into a loveless marriage in the hopes of producing an heir to the throne. Neither the Chantry nor his people would ever accept a mage to fulfill that role.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She placed her hand upon his shoulder again and began to massage it. "I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, but I've never believed in dancing around a subject when something needs to be said. In time, you'll see it's for the best. For now, though, the captain did assign me a cabin on the lower deck. It's small, but comfortable, and the bed is just big enough for two if their bodies were huddled close together."

The space between Alistair's brows disappeared with disbelief. Had she really just asked him to join her in her cabin? At that very moment, the last thing on his mind was bedding anyone, especially her. She seemed like a decent enough woman, but he felt no physical attraction toward her. Besides, he wanted his first time to be with someone he cared about. He wanted it to actually mean something.

Wynne brandished a sly smirk. "Don't look so surprised. You wouldn't be the first younger man I've taken to my bed over the years, and you certainly won't be the last."

Alistair was unsure how exactly to counter the enchanter's illicit proposal. He didn't want to hurt Wynne's feelings, but he wasn't about to accept her proposition. After a long pause, he licked his lips and turned to her with a shy smile.

"I appreciate the offer. I really do, but…" He shrugged. "I'm not really into that sort of thing. I mean, don't get me wrong. You're a lovely woman and all, I just…I mean, I…I've never…"

Wynne's scowl transformed into a sympathetic smile. "Ah, I see. Say no more. Although I grew up in the Circle, I understand the want for the first time to be special. Mine certainly was. Don't get me wrong. We weren't in love or anything, but he was a very dear friend for many years."

"So you've never been in love?"

"Only once," she sighed. "Ages ago. Our situation was even less ideal than normal. We were doomed from the start, but it taught me a very valuable lesson, and it's one you would do well to remember. Love is fleeting, but worse than that, it bids the most intelligent people to do the most rash and ridiculous things. It's always better to use your head instead of your heart. Your heart will only betray you in the end."

Once again, Alistair felt tears sting his eyes. Not out of sympathy for Wynne, but because he could see Solona's future in the older woman's bitter and haunted gaze. He recognized the same look in his fellow Warden every time the subject of Anders was broached. No one deserved to have such a bleak and dreary outlook, especially at such a young age.

He spotted the door of the captain's cabin out of the corner of his eye, and he actually began to hope he was wrong about Garrett. As much as he loved Solona, Alistair realized she would never share his affections, but he wanted her to be happy. He didn't want her to end up old and bitter like the enchanter standing before him. To ensure that didn't happen, perhaps a relationship with Garrett was just what she needed after all.

The sensation of a soft cheek nuzzling his shoulder woke Garrett the following morning. It was difficult to discern the time from the rays of sun trickling through the large windows behind the headboard because they forever seemed to be filtered by grey skies. The pirate peered at the small clock on his bedside table and exhaled a sigh when he realized it was nearly noon.

The evening before had been a long, but certainly not unpleasant one. After dining with his passengers, Garrett returned to his cabin with Solona on his arm. They spent the rest of the night drinking spiced rum and attempting to go through every sexual position in both of their repertoires. The mage was extremely talented and showed him pleasures even he and Isabela hadn't tried.

He turned his head toward Solona and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, which elicited a catlike grin to spread across her face. Even though her hair was a tangled mess and the kohl she wore was smudged, she was still one of the most beautiful women Garrett had ever seen. Waking up to her cuddled in his arms was a damned sight better than waking up alone.

A knot formed in his stomach at that notion. Solona was the first woman he had bedded other than Isabela since Maggie, and only the fourth in his life. Given what he had seen in the mage's eyes when they met, he knew they were cut from the same cloth. They were merely two lost souls who could find temporary comfort in each other's embrace, and when they parted, they would carry with them a few pleasant memories, nothing more. He thought he could handle that without a problem, but with Solona snuggled up against him, he was beginning to think he had made a grave error in judgement.

You can't let your heart get mixed up in it, mate. It's trouble you don't need.

If Garrett stayed in that bed and continued to mull things over, he knew it would only lead to somewhere he never wished to go again. So, he quietly slipped from the mage's embrace, put his feet to the floor, and pulled on his smallclothes and leather trousers. He eased over to the basin and splashed some clear, cool water on his face then stared at himself in the mirror.

The man who gazed back at him was the same one he had seen for ten years. The same one whose heart had been broken by both Isabela and Maggie. That looking glass reflected the fool he was then, the fool he refused to be any longer. He needed a change. A physical alteration to remind him that he would not fall into the perilous trap of emotions and love again.

He smoothed out his long hair with the comb from atop the dressing table, then promptly tied it together at the nape of his neck. As he retrieved the scissors from the drawer, Garrett thought of all the times since he was eight years old that Eleanor complained about the length of his hair and offered to cut it for him. He wondered if she would be pleased with his decision, wherever it was that she landed.

He gathered the end of his mane into his left hand, closed his eyes, and began to cut away at his ebony tresses with the scissors in his right, just above where it was bound. When it was finished and the blades no longer met with resistance, he turned the bundle loose and allowed it to rain on the floor at his bare feet. When his lids opened, he heard a sharp gasp echo from behind.

"What in the Maker's name did you do?" Solona questioned.

He turned to her and tilted his head in a bow. "I thought it was time for a change. What do you think, love?"

She scowled as she yanked the scissors from his hand. "I think you look absolutely ridiculous."

"Is it really that bad?"

The mage grabbed the chair next to her and pulled it behind him, then pushed down on his shoulders to prompt him to sit. "Yes. It is." She shook her head with a perturbed sigh. "Don't worry, I'll fix it."

As she began to snip away at his hair, Garrett peered up at her with a frown. "Are you sure you know what you're doing there, love?"

Solona placed her hand on the top of his head then forced his chin to his chest. "Even if I didn't, I couldn't do any worse than you have. Lucky for you, I've done this before. I used to cut my best friend's hair in the tower before he decided to grow it out long, and I trimmed Anders' hair quite often, as well."

"Anders? That's the bloke you asked the old woman about, isn't it?"

"Yes," she replied. "He was…he and I were lovers."

Garrett could tell by the tone of Solona's voice that there was much more to the story. He couldn't help but wonder if Anders was the one that had broken her heart so thoroughly. He glanced at her face in the mirror and knew the answer to his question right away. The anguished grimace she wore said it all.

"It was him, wasn't it?" the pirate queried. "The one who shattered your soul and turned your veins to ice?"

She stopped and drew a deep, ragged breath before her expression became devoid of all emotion. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I take it that it was Maggie that did the same to you."

Her words and callous delivery of them stung more than they should have. "One of them, yes. The last one."

"So there were others?"

"One other," he confessed. "Another pirate, named Isabela. I guess I'm a bit stubborn, but I finally learned my lesson well enough."

"As did I," the mage retorted. "Anders used to say that love was only a game. It took me far too long to realize how true that statement was."

Garrett's face screwed up in a confused expression. Solona seemed like an intelligent woman, but that admission made him begin to question that belief a bit.

"He said that? And you went after the bloke anyway?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. It was exceptionally asinine of me, but I was only thirteen when I fell in love with him. By the time I grew out of the foolishness that comes with that young age, I was in far too deep and it was entirely too late."

"I was twelve when I fell in love with Isabela," Garrett told her. "She was two years older than me. The most beautiful lass I had ever seen up to that point."

"Anders was eleven years older than me," she confessed as she continued to work. "Handsome, charming, absolutely brilliant. I thought he was perfect. I just didn't realize he had the emotional capacity of a thimble."

Before Garrett could continue their conversation, Solona moved around to his front and, after a few more quick snips, stood back with her hands on her hips to admire her handiwork. "All done," she said before placing the scissors on top of the dressing table and making her way to the wardrobe. "Last night, you said you had some more clothes I could borrow, yes? Just until I get my armor back from Levitt."

Garrett couldn't fault the mage her avoidance of furthering the subject. He completely understood. He didn't want to talk about Isabela or Maggie anymore either. They were both heartaches he didn't care to revisit.

"Top drawer, love. There should be another pair of wool leggings, and you can wear whichever shirt you want."

Without another word, Solona rummaged through the drawer until she found the pants Garrett offered, then pulled one of his black silk shirts from the top half of the wardrobe. Within moments, she was completely dressed, though he couldn't fathom how she managed wearing wool without smalls. He couldn't stand the feel of the rough material anywhere on his skin, let alone around his nethers, but she didn't seem to mind donning the pieces of clothing his friend left behind on her prior voyages.

When she was finished strapping her boots, Solona bestowed a peck on his cheek. "I'm going to see if my armor's ready now and maybe find some breakfast."

It was obvious the mage's intent was to get away from Garrett as fast as possible, and he was grateful to the spirits for it. Even if he were stupid enough to think of falling for Solona, she made it clear by her actions the sentiment would never be returned. Their time together was only to consist of them taking pleasure in each other's bodies and carnal expertise.

What had she called it? A distraction. Nothing more. Nothing less.

After speaking to Levitt about her armor only to discover it wasn't yet dry, Solona made her way back up to the deck. As much as she had enjoyed Garrett's company the previous evening, after their conversation that morning, she felt the need to avoid him, at least for a little while. She was already in love with one man she couldn't have, she certainly wasn't ready to make it two.

Her intention was to find Alistair so they could make plans about what they would do once they arrived in Redcliffe the next morning. Unfortunately, her fellow Warden was nowhere to be found up top, so she ambled back toward the steps leading below. She was almost to the door, when she spotted her sister leaning against the portside railing, staring out at the shoreline in the distance.

When Solona approached her and placed a firm hand on Miri's shoulder, her twin jumped then recoiled at the contact. The Warden jerked her hand away. She should have known better. Miriana never cared for physical contact when it came as a surprise.

She shook her head as she leaned against the rail at Miri's left side. "A copper for your thoughts, Sister."

The other woman exhaled a quiet sigh. "Hello, Solona."

"I take it by your pouting that you're upset with me over conscripting you."

Miriana shrugged then turned her face toward her sister, her lapis eyes silently pleading. "I don't want to be a Grey Warden, Solona. I just want to go home, back to the Circle where I belong. Where it's safe."

"Safe?" the Warden scoffed. "Did anything about Kinloch Hold seem safe to you?"

"It's better than being tainted by darkspawn," Miri countered.

Solona arched an incredulous brow. "Have you already forgotten all the blood everywhere? All those people with their guts spilled and splattered all over the floors and walls? Or did you somehow manage to keep your eyes shut the entire way?"

"But it's over now," her sister argued. "The demons and blood mages have all been dealt with. There's no reason to fear any longer."

The Warden was forced to take a deep breath to calm her nerves. She had invoked the Right to liberate her twin from the confines of the Circle. She thought Miri would be grateful for that freedom. Unfortunately, it seemed her sister had been brainwashed by the Chantry and its priestesses just like so many others before her.

Any doubts Solona once harbored about conscripting Miriana melted away completely in that moment. Getting Miri away from the Circle was obviously the best thing for her. Besides, Solona had no intention of putting her twin through the Joining, even if she had the materials and the knowhow. She wouldn't do that to her worst enemy, let alone her sister.

Her plan was to keep Miriana with her, to ensure her safety, until the end of the Blight, then allow her twin to go her own way. Now that Solona was aware of Miriana's affection for the Circle, however, she wasn't about to tell Miri her intentions. As far as Solona was aware, she and Alistair were the only ones in Ferelden who knew about the Joining Ritual, and she meant to keep it that way. She only hoped the other woman would come to understand the travesty and injustice of the Circle before the Blight was over. Either way, Solona would do what was best for Miri, whether her sister liked it or not.

"Well, it really doesn't matter anymore," the Warden claimed "What's done is done. You are with the Grey Wardens now, Sister. There is no going back to the Circle. It's for your own good."

Miriana's face twisted into an anguished grimace, and she appeared as if she might break down into tears. At first, Solona thought her twin was just being overly melodramatic, as she had a tendency to do, but it didn't take long to realize there was more than the conscription bothering the other woman. Could it be that Miri was upset over Solona bedding Garrett?

"He'll only break your heart, you know." Solona offered as consolation. "You're better off not getting involved with a man like Garrett. I'm really doing you a favor by distracting him."

Miriana jerked her head to glare at her sister, her chest heaving with every deep and incensed breath. Solona could have sworn she saw her twin's eyes flash silver for a split second, but quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light. It was a side of Miri her sister had rarely witnessed when they were children, and she was angrier than Solona had ever seen her.

"I am sick and tired of everyone around me doing things they know will hurt my feelings and then expecting me to thank them for it," she seethed. "You didn't bed Garrett because you were trying to spare me pain. You did it because you wanted to do it. I doubt my feelings were even a consideration beforehand, just an afterthought because you thought it might bother me and you wanted to allay your own guilt."

"Actually…" Solona began in explanation, but Miri cut her off.

"No! For once in your life, you will shut up and listen to me for a change. You conscripted me without even talking to me about it first. Then, you seduced Garrett into taking you to his bed when you obviously knew I liked him. And to top it all off, you have the gall to tell me both things were for my own good. I have news for you, Sister, I don't need your bloody protection. I've done just fine on my own for the past fourteen years."

Miriana's shouting prompted Solona's ire to rise along with her sister's, but she managed to maintain her apathetic guise. "In the Circle? I would hardly call that fending for yourself, Miriana."

"It's a damned sight better than what you offer," her twin countered before her voice and expression softened and tears began to gather in her eyes. "Don't you get it? I'm not angry because you shared a bed with Garrett. I can't be. I know I don't have a prayer of turning his head. Yes, it hurts, but I'll get over that, eventually. What I can't abide by is you trying to justify doing it by saying it's for my protection. If you want to have sex with him, by all means, be my guest, but don't make me an excuse for your behavior or as a way to clear your conscience."

Miri didn't wait for any type of reply or comment from Solona. Instead, she spun on her heel and hurried to her cabin, slamming the door shut behind her. Miriana had been wrong, of course. Although Solona desired to bed Garrett for her own pleasure, part of her reasoning really was to protect her sister's heart from the emotional pain a man like him would give her in the end. Maker knew she wished someone would have cared enough about her to do the same.

"Are you alright?" she heard Alistair ask from her left.

"Yes," she nodded. "I'll be fine."

"I think there's some breakfast left, if you're hungry," he told her. "Just stay away from the oatmeal. That shit settles like a damned rock. I'm pretty sure it's really the compound dwarves use for their masonry work disguised as food." Solona bit her lips together to stifle a chuckle. "No, seriously. I picked up my spoon and the whole fucking wad came out with it. It looked a bit like a lumpy lollipop. Of course, it didn't taste like a lolly, more like….well, let's just say I'd rather run my tongue across a darkspawn's ass. It would have to taste better than whatever that shit was."

Between the jokes about his breakfast and the feigned expression of disgust on Alistair's face, Solona couldn't contain her laughter. Somehow, he always knew exactly what to do to calm her spirit. Even if they would never be lovers, she could always count on him to be her best friend, at least for a while. At least until he left her just like everyone else in her life had.

Solona seemed to be in much better spirits when she and Alistair reached the ship's galley. Her sister's admonition bothered her more than she let on. After spending so much time together over the previous months, he knew her well enough to recognize the mask of indifference she donned when she was trying to disguise her feelings.

Alistair only managed to catch the tail end of the conversation, but from what he heard, Solona was definitely in the wrong, though his fellow Warden would never admit that. He wasn't even sure she was aware of just how wrong she was. In Solona's mind, she could very well have been thinking she was doing her sister a favor by steering Garrett's attentions and affections away. As much as he wished he could cheer both women up, he was more afraid to hurt Solona's feelings. He simply didn't know Miriana well enough yet.

He had only been half joking when he told Solona about the oatmeal lolly. The thing was so Maker awful, he only managed a few nibbles before his gag reflexes forced him to drop it back into the bowl. He only hoped he would be able to scrounge up something halfway edible for them because the rumbling in his gut was getting louder by the minute.

Solona inhaled a deep breath and smiled. "Something smells delicious."

"It does," Alistair agreed with a confused expression. "Maybe Ramirez knows how to cook, after all."

"I wouldn't count on that, mate," Garrett said as he strode out of the kitchen. "The bloke's been a part of this crew since before I was born, and I've never known him to make anything that resembled food outside of cold sandwiches."

Alistair had mixed emotions about being in the same room with the captain and Solona. On one hand, he was starving and finding food was becoming more necessity than desire. On the other hand, knowing what had taken place between the two of them made for a very awkward atmosphere. He was certain they wanted him to leave so they could spend time alone, and Alistair knew he should probably just head out the door, but he simply couldn't take his eyes off Garrett.

Sometime between supper the previous evening and when they met him in the galley, Garrett had cut his hair short, nearly as short as Alistair's own. The new style definitely suited the pirate. The way the ebony, sideswept fringe of hair lightly grazed his left brow enhanced the aquamarine color of his already stunning eyes, making him appear even more debonair and handsome than before.

"Then why keep him as a cook?" Solona questioned.

Alistair absentmindedly ran his tongue over his lips as he imagined pressing them to Garrett's and running his fingers through the pirate's dark mane. His breath quickened with that notion while his gaze traced down the lines of the captain's body to all the places he wished he could trail soft, wet kisses. His erect cock twitched upon imagining taking Garrett's into his mouth, finally drawing him out of his lust filled trance. He sidestepped behind the table, praying his armor did a fair enough job in hiding his excitement, his face flushed with both embarrassment and desire.

Just go, jackass. He's going to figure it out if you keep gawking at him like that. He already made it clear he's not interested and never will be. Right now, I doubt they'd even notice if you left. The perfect time to get away.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself, Alistair couldn't will his feet to move as the pirate answered Solona's question with a casual shrug. "He's loyal and never complains, not even when the men harass him. He's also the one who found my sorry hide stuck in a crate of bananas when I was a wee babe. He could've just tossed me overboard to become bait for the sharks, but he had the good nature to take me to the old captain instead."

So, he's an orphan too? I guess it's not surprising, given that he's a pirate now. Most of them probably are. Okay, so you have that in common. Wait, why in the holy Maker's balls are you even thinking that? Yeah, that's really going to sway him to...

"So why not just assign him to another duty?" asked the mage.

Why in the bloody Maker's name are you still standing here like a fucking idiot? You'd be better off to just leave now and come back when they're gone. The longer you wait, the better chance you have at him noticing the hard-on he's giving you.

"Because he's absolute shite with a blade and can't work a rigging to save his ass. But, as I said, the man's loyal and that counts for a lot on my ship." He gestured to the kitchen area with a tilt of his head. "Just finished making breakfast, by the way. I've got extra, if either of you is interested."

The young warrior blanched a bit at the suggestion. Was Garrett just being courteous or was his invitation sincere? Alistair couldn't imagine the captain really wanted him to stick around when he had Solona as company. In his present state of excitement, he considered turning down Garrett's offer, he knew he probably should, but his rumbling gut won out in the end.

"Sure," he said, attempting to retain as much of his composure as he could muster. "As long as it's not oatmeal. I don't think I could stomach anymore of that…ever."

Garrett chuckled, the timbre of his laugh genuine and warm. "You think that's bad, you should try his eggs. Full of shells, and bugger me if they aren't the prettiest shade of pale green. I think it has something to do with the copper pot he uses to prepare them, but if I'm being honest, I really don't want to know for sure. I just keep my distance from the damned things."

Damn, he's sexy.

"Sound advice," said Alistair with a lopsided grin. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind." As Garrett turned his back to head into the kitchen, the prince added, "Nice hair, by the way."

He nearly melted into a heap when the captain looked over his shoulder with a lopsided smirk. "Thanks, mate."

The pirate disappeared through the doorway and returned a few minutes later with a tray bearing three plates of freshly prepared hearthcakes doused in thick, dark syrup and another plate piled with piping hot sausages. Alistair's stomach emitted a much louder growl than before in anticipation of finally being filled with real food. His face flushed with embarrassment, but the others either didn't hear it or chose to ignore it. When the captain set the plate down in front of Alistair and he got a better look at the fare, however, he scowled and immediately pushed it away.

Garrett lifted a brow. "Not to your liking, mate? A little too unrefined for your royal palate, then?"

Alistair groaned. "It's not that. It's just…" His scowl altered to an expression of utter disgust. "Blueberries. Blech."

"You got something against blueberries?" the captain questioned with bewilderment. "I thought everyone liked blueberries."

"Not me," the warrior replied with a shake of his head. "I hate the ruddy things. They're bad enough by themselves, but cooked in hearthcakes?" He shivered. "It's like biting into a pus filled boil and having it squirt all over inside your mouth. Just nasty."

Garrett's brow furrowed as he stared at Alistair like the man had just said the most ridiculously stupid thing he ever heard in his life. The future king's skin grew hot again and began to glow a brighter shade of red than ever before. He supposed the captain thought him childish in his distaste for the offered fare. Childish and ungrateful. It couldn't be helped, though. Alistair knew if he were to attempt to eat the hearthcakes out of propriety, he would have just gagged as soon as he began to chew. He couldn't count how many times the sisters in the monastery made him choke down the bloody things, which always ended with him vomiting them up as soon as he left the dining hall.

"More for me and the lass, then, I suppose," the pirate shrugged as he pulled the plate to the middle of the table. He distributed the two pancakes, one to himself and the other to Solona, then pushed the platter of sausages toward Alistair. "Not opposed to those too, are you?"

It was a small gesture of kindness Alistair hadn't expected from Garrett. When the pirate aided Cullen with the lyrium kit the day before, the prince assumed it was merely the captain's way of protecting his crew and the other passengers. Perhaps Garrett was more altruistic than his pirate persona made him appear. He had helped them defeat the demons and maleficar in the tower, after all, and he was providing them passage to Redcliffe. Was it possible he was both a pirate and a good man? That certainly did nothing to help quell Alistair's attraction.

"Not at all," the young warrior replied with a grin before adding, "You cooked these though, right?"

Garrett shook his head with a laugh. "Just eat the bloody things, your Majesty, before a kraken mistakes the growling in your stomach for a mating call."

Alistair groaned. "Please don't call me that."

"Then what should I call you, mate?" the captain asked. "Maybe 'jackass' would be more to your liking, then?"

"I'm pretty sure it means the same thing," Alistair replied with a chuckle while spearing one of the sausages with his fork.

Garrett made a clicking sound between the teeth on the left side of his mouth. "Alright, if that's the way you want it, mate. I guess there's only one more question to be asked, then."

"What's that?" the prince replied, dreading the answer.

"Do you want some eggs to go along with those sausages, jackass?"