Many thanks to all those who've read, reviewed and added this to favorites/alerts. And especially to those of you who've read multiple chapters in one sitting. :) Last, but not least, to brownc0at for being my beta.

Darrian Tabris

We left just after sunrise. Arl Eamon had given us enough supplies that we would be able to reach the town of Brandel's Landing about three days northeast of Redcliffe. It served as a shipping port for goods from the Hinterlands and the Southron Hills according to Bann Teagan. Though, with the darkspawn rising in the south, I wondered just how much longer it would survive.

The day warmed as the sun rose, and a light breeze carried the scent of late spring flowers. I've always loved this time of year, warm silky days after the icy cold of winter. Alistair and I rode in front, taking point, while Wynne and Morrigan followed us in the wagon. Tam had decided to ride with the witch, and while she made some comments about 'mangy dogs' and 'flea-bitten hounds,' she didn't discourage him.

Sten and Leli rode flank, and Zevran trailed in the rear. He'd said something about 'watching my back' in a way that made Alistair blush, Leli smile, and Morrigan roll her eyes. Neither Sten nor Wynne had been within earshot, for which I was thankful. While Sten might frown, he wouldn't say anything. But I really didn't want to endure a lecture from Wynne about my 'duties and responsibilities.' I knew what they were.

I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on enjoying the ride. After about an hour, I pulled my horse up beside Alistair. We hadn't talked much after settling the matter of Connor's possession and the arl's recovery. Perhaps it was because my own thoughts kept straying to my family that I wanted to ask him about his.

"Can I ask you something?"

He glanced at me and then nodded. I pitched my voice low, so only he would hear me. "Did… Cailan know you were his brother?"

He sighed. "Yes, but we never spoke. I only saw him once, when I was maybe six or seven, and he was eleven. I said hello, then he ran off, looking for the knights."

"All those years, and he never…"

Alistair shook his head.

"I'm…sorry," I said, because I didn't know what else to say.

"And now he's dead," Alistair said quietly, but with an edge in his voice. He shook his head, then straightened and punched me lightly on the arm. "What about you? Any half-siblings hiding in the corners of your life?"

His horse snorted.

"No, just a few cousins. Shianni and…Soris." I thought of them every day, wondering if they were well, hoping they were. But Zevran was right -there'd be consequences from the carnage Soris and I had dealt when we'd rescued Shianni and the others.

"Well, since we're talking family, I should probably tell you about my sister."

I blinked, startled out of my thoughts. "You have a sister?"

He sighed again. "Half-sister really. And that's all the relatives, I promise." His face went wistful. "I know she lives in Denerim, near the Alienage, and I always wanted to look her up. This probably isn't the best time to do that."

"No, it's the perfect time to head to Denerim after we re-supply. We need to find out what Loghain is doing, anyway, among other things."

I glanced down at my scuffed and stained armor. Between darkspawn blood, undead, and the Abominations in the tower, it needed repair. It probably should be replaced. Duncan had mentioned a cache of Grey Warden weapons and armor stored at a warehouse in the capital. I glanced at Alistair's battered scabbard. He could use a better sword. All our weapons had seen hard use in the last months.

I longed to see my father and cousins, as well, and find out if anything had happened to them. I still remembered the pain in my father's eyes the day I'd left. His hopes and plans for my future had been scattered in blood soaked pieces through Denerim castle. And what of Shianni, and the women Soris and I were supposed to have married? Were they still in Denerim? Or had they returned to Highever? Those thoughts and darker possibilities occupied me for the rest of the day. I felt thin with worry by the time I told the others at dinner that night of where we would go next after buying supplies.

Leliana clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, I've always wanted to see the market in Denerim. I've heard merchants from all over Thedas and Ferelden can be found there."

Sten frowned. "We are supposed to be fighting Darkspawn, not attending…fairs."

"More delays," Morrigan said. "Continue this dithering, and the darkspawn will overwhelm us before the battle even starts."

"We are gathering allies, my dear," Wynne said. "And that sometimes requires one to -"

"Are you never done with lecturing?" Morrigan snapped, slamming her bowl on the ground.

Wynne stiffened. "I am merely trying to point out-"

"Why do you always feel the need to tell the rest of us what to think?"

"Why won't you let me finish a thought?" Wynne said, rising to her feet, one hand clenching her spoon.

"Oh, you have room for thinking? I'd thought there wouldn't be any left, after all that drivel the tower's poured into your head."

The temperature around the campfire rose and plummeted, then rose again, as the two mages glared at one another.

"You might have learned-"

"Enough!" I said, bounding to my feet, afraid that whatever Wynne might be going to say next would involve defending the tower and its policies. Both women turned their glares on me. Fire and ice played over my skin.

"I agree with the witch," Sten said. "We need to focus our attention on fighting the darkspawn."

"I am focusing my attention," I said -through clenched teeth.

Sten rose -and added his glare to the others. "You are letting yourself be distracted-"

My sword was half drawn and my dagger fully out before I even realized what I was doing. The air shimmered with tension and gathered magic. Leliana opened her mouth.

"Don't," I said, pointing my dagger at her. "Don't …say …a word."

I twisted around and stalked off past where the horses were tethered, still holding my weapons, not stopping till I found the small stream about twenty paces from our camp.

I stood next to the stream bank, shaking, my breathing ragged. Blasted shem. With their constant bickering and second-guessing. Yet, when the hard choices came, all of them, including Alistair, always looked to me. I didn't want that responsibility. I didn't need it. I needed… Blessed Creators, I didn't know what I needed. Only that the road stretched out long and dark before me, filled with black blood and blacker choices. Who was I to make them? Who was I to decide if a child lived or died? Or what treaty should be pursued next? Or how we should go about convincing potential allies to help us fight this bloody war against the Blight?

I sank to my knees beside the stream, easing my sword back into its sheath, but still clenching my dagger. The one Duncan had bought for me, my only connection to the man who should be making these decisions, not me.

A twig snapped behind me. "Just leave me alone," I said. I didn't need some shem…

"Well, if that is what you truly wish, then I'll go," Zevran said behind me.

"Wait," I said, re-sheathing my dagger as I twisted around.

"Yes?" His voice was a soft purr. How did he get so many possibilities in one word? And one half-smile that promised and teased at the same time?

I swallowed. "Why are you here?"

He didn't answer at first, just settled beside me and picked up a stone from the stream bank. He studied it a moment, and then passed it from finger to finger like a street entertainer might do with a large copper disc.

I'd done the same; it was a way to build dexterity and strength in the fingers. I reached out, and my hand closed over his. I'd meant to slip the stone from his grasp, but once my fingers closed around his I couldn't release him. No, I didn't want to. I sat there, staring at the wet grey stone that gleamed in the early evening sun, my heart beating faster, his flesh pressed against mine.

He moved closer, and I felt his warm breath on the side of my face. "You are a drawn bow, pointed at everything…and nothing. That is not a good thing." His lips brushed my cheek. "You need a target."

My fingers tightened around his. "You just want to fuck me." Even so, I couldn't release his hand.

"What are you afraid of? We both want this, yes?" His other hand slipped across my cheek, and it sent a shiver of desire down my spine. The little control I had left was fraying, dissolving like mist in the heat of the sun.

I closed my eyes, and his fingers slipped past my cheek, trailed down the side of my neck and came to rest at the base of my throat. I heard his breathing quicken, but his hand stayed still, though the fingers of the hand I held slipped between, then tightened, around mine.

Zevran was right. I was afraid. Afraid of what sleeping with him might lead to. Afraid of getting my heart entangled with a man who flitted from lover to lover like a stray beam of sunlight, seeking a bit of sweetness here and there, but never settling on one. I wasn't like that. I needed someone to stay, to wake beside me in the morning, and know that he would be there for more than a quick tumble. I didn't need forever, but I did need someone I could give more than just my body to.

I opened my eyes and pulled back so I could look into his. They burned bright in the early evening sun. Blessed Creators, how the soft light burnished him, giving rosy highlights to his skin and setting his hair shimmering.

I released his hand and slipped my hands behind his neck, then interlaced my fingers so that my thumbs extended up into his soft hair. A stray breeze brushed gold strands across his face. He smiled. And it was real and warm, with nothing of the artifice he usually wore.

I swallowed. "Yes, I want it…you. But...it's complicated."

He touched my cheek at the edge of the markings my mother had given me when I was fifteen, only a few months before she died. "It can be made so. But moments for the kind of pleasure we can give one another don't come along very often, so why not take them when they are offered?"

"This from a man who bragged about taking three prostitutes at one time?" It slipped out before I could stop it, and my heart thudded, but he only chuckled.

"Yes, that was a most memorable night, but that was just sex, not…pleasure."

My heart flipped over. "So, pleasure and sex aren't the same?" It seemed an odd distinction to me.

He waved a hand. "Yes and no. Sex is certainly pleasurable, and I have…hmmm… a fair…" He laughed, and laid his other hand on my shoulder. "Ah, let's be honest, I have a considerable amount of skill. I've picked up a number of techniques over the years that won't leave you disappointed." His smiled deepened. "Now, as for pleasure…you intrigue me, my dear Warden. All fire and steel. Strong and fierce, yet you can bend without breaking. Yield without losing. And when you fight, it's like watching a fine dancer. But dancing is much more fun when done with a partner, yes?"

I kissed him, a brief hard press against his soft lips. Maybe it was a mistake. For it was certainly an invitation, and not the first I'd given him. And, oh, Blessed Creators, what he'd just told me made the decision even harder. He would deny it, probably even be offended by it if I suggested it, but it seemed he also needed more than just a warm and willing body. Or maybe I was only reading my own need into his desire.

I gazed at him, so close to yielding to the fire that danced over my skin. I didn't doubt he was as skilled as he claimed, and I wasn't ignorant about sex. Ah, Creators, I didn't know what to do. But I couldn't keep going back and forth like this.

My fingers brushed down the side of his face, following the curve of his vallaslin. He was right. Death could find us at any time. And if it came, I didn't want my last memories of life to be only of blood and steel.

"We'll be at Brandel's Landing in a few days. I've been told there's a very comfortable inn there."

He smiled. "Ah, I see. You prefer a bed."

"For the first time between us, yes. And a little more privacy than we have here would be nice, too."

I glanced at the sun. We had at least an hour before darkness claimed the sky.

Rising, I pulled off my shirt and draped it over a bush by the stream. Then I pivoted back, drawing my blades as I did. I smiled.

"In the meantime, come… dance with me."