I know! An update! Who'd have thought? Thanks for waiting so ridiculously long – and just so you know, this chapter contains adult material.

Onward and Upward

Fergus sat quietly in his father's study, his legs outstretched, and a glass of wine in his hand. A log in the hearth hissed and popped, distracting him from his thoughts, and a small smile pulled at his tight lips. As the night air had no bite to it, it was probably an utter waste to have the fire lit at all, but, in every memory of his father's use of this room, a fire had burned brightly in the hearth.

And so he'd built one.

He'd done so on his own, and he paused to admire the height of the flames. Glancing around the room, he could not help but feel his father's presence, and his heart lurched.

"I wish you were here, Father," he said softly before leaning back and resting his head against the high back of the chair. His eyes slipped closed as he considered what was to come.

"You lit a fire?" called a gentle voice.

Fergus smiled and opened his eyes, spying his sister as she came around the side of his chair.

"I did," he answered. "It seemed the thing to do."

Annika's mouth drew into a wistful grin. "He always did love a good fire, didn't he? It used to drive Mother batty, having the great hall's hearth roaring in midsummer." She stepped past him and settled into the chair beside him. "Does it feel like it's yours yet? The study, I mean?"

He sighed and sipped his wine slowly. "No, I expect it will always feel as if I'm playing the teyrn."

"You're wrong; you're not playing at anything, certainly not at being teyrn," she chastised gently. "You've done a wonderful job, Fergus, pulling us all up by our bootstraps. You don't give yourself enough credit; I'm very proud of you," she said with sincerity. He did not readily answer, and Annika returned her gaze to the fireplace. "Anyway, I'm glad you started one, Father would have appreciated it."

A comfortable quiet settled between brother and sister, each remembering times gone past.

"How are you?" he asked.

Sadness came into her eyes, and, for a moment, he regretted asking her. "We don't need to talk of her, if you aren't ready," he offered.

She shook her head. "No, I don't mind. Actually, I've just left Zevran, and he told me that Lil, that…well, never mind what he told me. Let's just say that Leliana did what she thought was right, down to the last. I hate her being gone, but I'm going to be all right; as a matter of fact, we all are."

He quirked an eyebrow at that but made no comment. "She was an amazing woman," he said. "You will miss her."

Annika nodded, a small smile on her face. "Always. Today is easier, and tomorrow will be better, I know that much. Loss is something we're getting rather good at around here; I suppose all this practice has helped," she noted wryly. "It makes me very eager to get started on being happy again."

"Happy," he repeated quietly. "Yes, I expect we could all use a bit of that, couldn't we?"

"Maker knows, it's long overdue," she sighed. "What of your happiness, Fergus? I'm worried I've talked you into something you'll regret, something you'll come to hate me for."

"You forget, my darling girl, that I am the big brother," he replied, "and no matter how well you may wrap others around your little finger, I have long since learned all your tricks. Hear me, Annie. This is what I want to do, and, I think, it's what needs to be done. I haven't been 'talked' into anything. The only question you should have is whether or not the Landsmeet will see things as we do."

She nodded once, recognizing his wish to close the more personal matter. "We could always tell the lot of them to pack sand, and then leave for home," she offered. "Of course, that wouldn't be very 'Cousland' of us, would it? Imagine what Father would have said."

They shared a smile, before saying in unison, "Duty."

Fergus sighed. "Well, I expect that answers that, then," he finished with a forced laugh. "We stay, and we finish this, Annie."

The siblings grew silent, and Annie stood, stooping close by the fire. Fergus watched her quietly as she used the iron poker to adjust a log. The flames grew high once more, and she settled back into her chair.

"I find myself wondering," Fergus began after a few minutes, "how it is that it's come to all this. The whole of our lives turned on their ears, our family gone."

She sighed and gazed into the fire. "I expect the Blight had a bit to do with it; that, and Rendon Howe."

Fergus sat forward in his chair and began to pull off one of his boots. "Yes, Howe," he answered with a sneer of disgust.

"Fergus, do you think Father ever had any suspicion?" she asked hesitantly. "I recall the whole of that day – it's astonishing, really, how clearly I remember that entire day – and I can't think of one moment when Howe wasn't as he always was: polite and amiable."

"No. As much as I'd like to think that Father saw through the insolent bastard, no, I don't think he had a clue."

Annika nodded, and again sighed, before reaching out and taking his glass of wine. Gingerly, she took a sip, before handing him back his glass.

"So much changed that night," she said softly. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but I sometimes find myself angry with them, for not seeing Howe for what he was. I catch myself, looking back on it all, amazed that the Arl was as demented as he was, and that our parents missed it."

"One sees what one wants to see," Fergus commented with a shrug. "Father and Mother were good to the Howes, and I cannot think of a single occasion when Howe didn't play the humble friend. It's easy to look back and second guess, but he never showed his hand, Annie, not once."

"Yet, here we are."

"Here we are," he agreed, tossing off his other boot. He looked over at her. "Do you think on what it would have been like, had Howe not succeeded?"

"You'd have Oriana and Oren," she answered quickly.

"I'd give anything for that. Maker, I miss them," he whispered sadly.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry."

"Why?" he argued. "Annie, it's a part of what happened, their murders. Not speaking of them doesn't make it worse, it makes them forgotten. I will never forget. I will live my life, but I will never forget them."

Annika nodded. "I know."

He shifted in his chair, and resumed their topic. "But what would you have, Annie, if Howe had failed? I think Duncan would have taken Roland to Ostagar, and not you," he pondered. "What then? You wouldn't have become a Warden; what of the Blight?"

"What if Loghain had made his charge? What if the other Wardens hadn't been turned away at the border, or if Cailan had listened to other council? We could speculate for ages," she pointed out. She shifted and pulled her legs up under her long skirts, and rested her chin on her knees. "Speaking of 'what ifs', did I ever tell you of the letters we found, after we returned to Ostagar?"

Fergus shook his head. "You told me you located Cailan's papers. You went back, what, about five months after Ostagar was lost?"

"Yes, something like that," she said. "But did I ever tell you of Eamon's letters to Cailan? There were several, each urging him to set aside Anora, and to pursue another marriage and beget an heir."

Fergus stared at her. "Maker's balls," he muttered. "Do you think Loghain knew? Is that why he didn't make his charge?"

"I don't know what Loghain knew," she replied. "We were late with the beacon, I can't deny that, but the battle wasn't yet lost when we lit it," she reasoned. She frowned. "Throwing aside an army of his own countrymen, just to keep his daughter on the throne? I pray not, but what other reasons he may have had, I can't say."

"Bloody hell, Annie," he stated as he stood and went to add more wine to his glass. "Imagine if that had happened, had Cailan survived, and set Anora aside; Mother and Father would have put you forward."

"For Cailan?" she queried, but continued without his answer. "I suppose you're right."

"I know they wouldn't have forced you, but you would have been the best choice, Annie. Who else, unless he looked outside of Ferelden?" Fergus reasoned. "To be honest, I think Cailan would have been happy to have married you; you two got on well."

She snorted. "Yes, well, I expect Cailan would have taken exception to my falling in love with his long-lost brother," she noted with a smile.

Fergus returned her smile. "You're probably correct about that," he agreed.

Her features changed, a tightness drawing across them. "It's strange, Fergus, it's a strange and horrible thing, but had it not been for Howe, for all of their deaths, for the Blight, I would never have found Alistair."

Fergus arched an eyebrow and returned to his chair. "What was it that Mother always told us? 'Light always pierces the darkness, and shows us the way'." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Mayhap Alistair is your light, Annie, made brighter in the darkness," he considered, his voice tight with emotion. "Perhaps Liso is mine."

Her eyes moved to his, and reached out to clasp his hand, as she blinked back her tears. She shook her head after a moment, and dropped his hand, a laugh escaping her. "Maker Fergus, that was almost poetic. Have you taken to moonlighting as a minstrel?"

He grinned and shook his head. "No," he snorted. "But, should our plan fail, at least I will have something to fall back on."

She nodded and chuckled, reaching out to take his hand in hers once more. "Are you certain this is what you want? We've still got another day before the Landsmeet begins."

He shook his head. "No, there's no changing course now, Annie, so leave it alone. This is the right thing to do, and it's the best thing for Ferelden. Besides, it's not often that what's best for everyone lines up with what's right, so I think we'd best we go with it."

"I hope you include yourself in the 'everyone'?"

He offered her a wry grin. "I haven't decided yet. Fear not, Annie, I plan to see to my own contentment once this business is settled. For now, though, I shall sit in our Father's study, drink my wine, and roast in front of what should be his fire."

Annika nodded sadly and got to her feet. "I'll let you get to it, then, and I'll let Liso know where you are."

"Thank you," Fergus nodded, throwing back his glass and draining his wine. Annika left the room, a gentle click heard as she drew the door closed.

xXx

Annika found Alistair in the rear of the training yard, just as the sun began to droop in the evening sky.

He was wearing his greaves and gauntlets, his thick undershirt drenched from his exertions. He swung his blunted long sword with ease, his thick arm barely encumbered by its weight as he made contact with the guardsman he was sparing with.

"Ho, ser!" called the guardsman, who had spotted Annika on the edge of the ring, and yielded to her husband. Alistair, who hadn't heard her approach, turned and smiled at her, and she felt her heart perform its usual lurch. It had been nearly three years since she'd first had his smile fall on her, and she still never quite found herself fully prepared for the effect it had on her.

"Hello, Wife!" Alistair called out. He turned back to the guardsman and offered his hand, the other man shaking it heartily before offering a quick bow to Annika, who inclined her head. As the guardsman left the area, Alistair joined her, his breath coming out hard.

"Hello, Husband," she replied. "You were in good form there," she complimented.

"You were staring at my bum again, weren't you?" he accused with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Some nobleman's daughter you are."

"I'm a Warden, and a Warden's wife, I will remind you," she joked. "We're nearly famous for our appreciation of a pert bum."

He laughed as he pulled off his gauntlets, which she held as he gathered up his equipment, following him into the small building where the training swords and dummies were kept.

"I've spoken with Zevran," she began, and she offered him a smile at his understanding look. "It's fine, Ali, really," she said quietly. "Leliana did what she thought was right, and I'm not so foolish to think I'd have ever dissuaded her from it."

He nodded. "Yes, I think you're right, but I still wish we could have tried."

She shook her head. "I know, me too. But she would never have allowed us to interfere; I think that's why she tried so hard to keep Zevran from putting it all together." She turned and carefully laid his gauntlets on a bale of hay, her back to him. "No, things happened as they were supposed to, just like everything else."

"What does that mean?" he asked as he splashed himself with cold water and tugged off his filthy shirt.

"Nothing, well, not nothing," she replied, turning to smile at him. "I've been playing a bit of 'what if' with Fergus and it made me remember that with the bad, there's always good. And, if we're truly lucky, what's good is great, really, really great," she said quietly. She admired him as he toweled off his face and chest. "You're one of those things, you know; you're my good from the bad."

He paused and eyed her thoughtfully, tossing the towel aside. He approached her and took her hands in his, wrapping her arms behind his middle. He bent his head and kissed the side of her jaw. "You were the only thing that kept me going, after Duncan died, after we saw so much death," he said against her ear. "You've given me a life I never thought I was worthy of."

"Alistair," she whispered, flustered by his touch. "Please tell me you're done training," she begged, her fingers trailing from his back around to his stomach. "Because I really want to show you how worthy you are."

He kissed her slowly, deliberately resisting her urgent motions. "Annie, I think we'd best take this to our room."

She broke from him and looked up from her lashes, a challenge dancing in her eyes. "No." She turned and crossed to the door, pulling it closed and throwing the bolt in place. The last of the day's sunlight filtered through the thin thatched roof as she turned back to him.

"Annie," he said huskily. "We cannot – not here!"

She began to slowly unbutton her blouse, revealing her cleavage. Her fingers found the laces of her skirt, and undid them, the lustrous fabric falling to the dirt floor, her smalls with them. "Talking with Fergus," she began, stepping closer, her hands now undoing the clips in her long hair, "also reminded me to relish what we have while we can, and when we can."

She arrived in front of him, her blouse open, her ample cleavage clearly visible, and her blooming body centimeters from his twitching fingers; he gulped audibly.

"Maker, I cannot take you here," he repeated, desperation and want mixed in his voice. His hands betrayed his words as he wrapped them around her growing middle.

She leaned forward and placed kisses to his throat, pressing her bare skin to his as she did. "What if I took you?" she teased.

He grunted but that was the end of his protests, his mouth finding hers. Hungrily he kissed her, his hands rough as he teased her breasts. She sighed and bit her lower lip in pleasure as he became more demanding, jerking her breast band down.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, dragging her backwards to a bench. He turned abruptly and sat down, pulling her on to his lap as he did.

His codpiece was hard beneath her, and she lifted her hips so she could undo his lacings over his crotch. She pulled him free of the restrictive cotton bindings, her small hand wrapping warmly around his thick length. He groaned loudly.

"We really should go to our room, Annika!" he stated, even as he moved against her palm.

"Right, you're right," she breathed as she pumped him, stroking him as she moved to straddle him. "Let's go," she panted.

He bucked up, his tip brushing against her heat, her breasts mouth-level. "Yes, you agree, then? We should go?"

She lowered herself onto him, both readily moving when she did. "Oh! Yes!" she cried. She kissed him hard, biting his lower lip. "Yes! We should leave, we should…"

"Later!" he grunted and grasped her hips. He guided her, and she followed his lead, grinding and riding him with complete abandon. His fingernails grazed her buttocks, and she led his mouth back to her hard nipples, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying him between her breasts.

One of his large hands left her hips to find her center, and he crooked a finger, so that as she rode, his finger struck her swollen bud. She shuddered almost immediately, and moved harder and faster to increase his touches.

"Now, Annie, now!" he demanded, pressing his fingers and bringing her into her orgasm.

She clenched his pounding shaft, and her exquisite tremors soon brought him to his end, his hot seed being milked from him by the last of her movements.

She went limp, and he had to hastily balance them both, the strength of their satisfaction bringing him weak as well. Slowly, she pushed herself back, smiling sheepishly at him. "Oh, Alistair," she began with a pathetic giggle.

"It's been a while since you didn't even let me get my greaves off, love," he answered, his smile matching hers.

She hugged him tight, kissing his cheek and neck. "I'm sorry," she replied with a laugh. "What can I say? It's been an emotional few days," she explained meekly.

"Annie," he whispered and kissed her tenderly. "It's a sacrifice, but I'm willing to be used in this way, if it helps you get through this. If assaulting me with your breasts helps you keep it together, I'm all for it."

They laughed together and he held her close. The shack grew dark, the very last of the daylight leaving the sky. "We'd best get dressed," he whispered against her shoulder.

"Yes, while I can still find my smalls," she joked. They slowly came to their feet, and, after several minutes, both had redressed. Surveying the shed, Annika threw the bolt of the door open and they snuck into the dark training yard.

Hand in hand, the couple entered the servants' hall, scurrying up the back stairs. Annika led the way as they rounded a corner, drawing short as she nearly collided with Zevran. Alistair didn't react as quickly as Annika, and nearly toppled his small wife as he collided with her.

"And just where is it that you two lovebirds have been?" Zevran asked, arching an elegant eyebrow, as the warrior steadied his love.

Annika blushed. "Uh, training!" she answered just as Alistair answered with, "Walking!"

They looked at each other and Annika grinned. "Oh, well, we were training and then walking," she explained.

"Ah, yes, train-walking. I've heard it's very invigorating," Zevran quipped. He stepped aside, making way for them to pass. "Annika, Teagan has arrived, along with Captain O'Donnell, and your dashing elder sibling has asked that we all meet in his study shortly."

"Thanks, Zev, we will, ah, we'll be right there," she replied and began to leave, Alistair right behind her.

"Oh, and Templar?" Zevran called from behind them. "You should consider adjusting your codpiece before any of the lady servants see you; it seems to have gone askew during your 'train-walking'."

Alistair looked down, and Annika gasped, covering her mouth as she giggled. Zevran was indeed correct: the codpiece was not entirely in place.

Alistair blushed a bright red, and quickly straightened his appearance.

"I can see that is another bet Leliana would have lost," Zevran observed, his eyes on Alistair's codpiece. "I told her there wasn't any padding down there."

Annika wrapped her arms around Alistair's waist and pushed him along, Alistair shooting Zevran a look that was an odd mixture of embarrassment, anger, and mirth.

"I hate you, Assassin," he called out to the elf as his wife dragged him from the rogue's sight.

xXx

For the next several hours, Teagan, the Theirins, Fergus and Zevran discussed the opening of the next Landsmeet.

Captain O'Donnell joined them and reported that the council, who had been working in earnest since the Queen's death to reach a consensus on many significant issues, seemed to be under the assumption that Alistair and Annika would jointly ascend the throne.

The tone in the city was, at best, tense, and at worse, made people recall the days when Loghain had first returned from Ostagar. Uncertainty had invaded every citizen's life with the death of Anora, as it had after their King had died, and, despite many believing she had not been the most adept leader, no one argued that any leader was better than none.

As the evening drew to a close, O'Donnell stood and bowed to the collective group, before offering his farewells, and, as he did so, he asked Alistair to join him outside of the study.

Alistair rose and followed the former captain out into the wide hallway, curious to know what it was that O'Donnell needed.

"Warden Theirin," O'Donnell began, but Alistair interrupted him, raising his hand.

"Please, I think at this point, unless you disagree, we ought to be addressing one another by our given names," Alistair stated, and to this, O'Donnell nodded once, a small smile on his face.

"Alistair," O'Donnell resumed, "I wanted to inform you and your wife that the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden arrived late this afternoon from Amaranthine; he's here to assume his post as well as take over the arling of Amaranthine."

"Take over the arling? But isn't the arling in fief to Highever? Fergus never mentioned anything."

O'Donnell shrugged. "I cannot speak for the teyrn, but, I as I understand it, the arling was allocated to the Wardens for the purpose of having an area to coordinate during the 'thaw'," he explained. "Forgive me if I've misused the term, you Wardens are so protective of your information, but I think that's what your Order calls the cleaning up of stragglers, once a Blight ends, yes?"

Alistair nodded. "Yes, odd term, I know, but yes," he confirmed. "Who is he? Or she?"

"Warden-Commander Caron is his name, and he presented himself to the council late today," O'Donnell explained. "Afterwards, he inquired of you and your wife, and I agreed to share his arrival with you. He wished you to know he intends to call upon you both on the morrow."

"Caron?" Alistair muttered, his mind searching for some sort of recognition of the name. "I haven't heard that name before, at least, Duncan never mentioned him," he continued, tapping his finger to his chin. He offered a smile. "Of course, there were several things Duncan failed to mention, so that doesn't particularly mean anything."

"Well, either way, I've done my part, haven't I?" O'Donnell replied, matching Alistair's grin.

"I'd say you've done more than your share."

O'Donnell inclined his head and turned to go. "Say, O'Donnell?" Alistair began, causing the warrior to pause. "I was wondering, when all of this is said and done, what will you do?"

O'Donnell's eyes softened. "I'm to be married, actually, and hope to return home to do so."

Alistair smiled. "Ah, home is the Waking Sea, right? I've met your bann, Alfstanna, and she seems a good person; both Teagan and Fergus speak highly of her."

"It's been quite some time since I've lived there," O'Donnell answered. "However, most of my family still does, and I was fortunate to meet my fiancée when I was visiting my sister. She's the daughter of a merchant there."

"Did you hope to return, though, to your post I mean? The Guard regained its respectability under your command."

"The Queen discharged me fully; I am no longer in the Guard," he explained, a shadow crossing his face. O'Donnell sighed. "I suspect it depends a great deal on how things proceed with the Landsmeet," he continued. "There will be some who feel I broke the Queen's trust, by testifying at the Landsmeet, rather than understanding the oath is to the position, and not the person."

"It's funny you put it that way," Alistair noted. "Wardens are very much the same way; we aren't sworn to any king, assembly, or even to the Chantry, just our word. I didn't understand that, in the beginning. It's not an easy way to live."

"Integrity and honor are worth the struggle," O'Donnell replied quietly. "And, if we are blessed, we serve our purpose with loved ones who cherish the same ideals. So, to answer your question, I'm not certain what I will do, but I am certain of my future bride."

Alistair clapped O'Donnell on his shoulder. "Well, you're twelve steps ahead of most folks, then, my friend. Congratulations!"

O'Donnell laughed and again offered his regards, before departing for the evening.

Alistair returned to the study, only to realize that the others had also finished their business. Teagan bid them good night, and Annika excused herself to their room, her hand caressing Alistair's as she passed him. Fergus and Zevran also remained, and Alistair took a seat by the fire.

"Fergus? O'Donnell wished to share with me that the new Warden-Commander of Ferelden has arrived in Denerim," Alistair began. "Apparently, he arrived via his arling, Amaranthine."

"The hell you say!" Fergus exclaimed. "That mad cow!"

"You didn't know? He said that Anora had offered the arling up…"

"I know, I know," Fergus said with a scowl, cutting Alistair off. "After the Blight ended, Anora made certain concessions to the various groups who had aided in ending the Blight, and she threw Amaranthine in to sweeten the pot. I reminded her then that the arling fell under my teyrnir, and with or without a Howe, it would continue on fine under Cousland guardianship."

"Apparently, the Queen disregarded your protest," Zevran observed.

"Yes, apparently," Fergus grumbled. "Well, I hope this Warden-Commander hasn't unpacked his bags."

Alistair's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Now wait, what does that mean?"

Fergus yawned. "It means that I have no intention of just lopping off a piece of my teyrnir, and handing it, and its well-being over to the Grey Wardens."

"Yes, but if the commander acts as the arl, then he would answer to you, wouldn't he?" Alistair asked, hoping to diffuse his brother-in-law's ire.

"As I understand it, you and Annika answer to the Order, and no one else," Fergus replied tersely. "Is that the case, or is it just something said when it's convenient and necessary to avoid politics?"

"Hey! No, it's not an excuse, and watch what you're saying!" Alistair snapped. "We have a duty that supersedes a liege loyalty!"

Fergus arched an eyebrow, shooting a hard look at Alistair. "Exactly. I've seen what can happen when loyalty lies elsewhere," he explained coldly. "I won't tolerate that situation in my teyrnir."

Alistair swallowed his furious reply, realizing that Fergus was not insulting the Wardens, but was angry at the Queen's disregard for his wishes. Fergus had valid points, but it didn't keep him from gently resuming their argument.

"Fergus, the Wardens in Ferelden will need a place to train, recruit, and house their brethren," Alistair explained, his tone even. "The arling is well situated, it has good access to almost all roads, and it is currently without a leader, at least, a leader who is there, daily, and in person."

Fergus frowned, but made no reply.

"Why not wait to meet him? He and Anora had obviously worked out some sort of arrangement," Alistair continued. "Perhaps she didn't 'hand over' the arling, maybe she'd set up something else entirely, knowing you weren't on board. O'Donnell said he would be calling here tomorrow to speak with Annie and I; meet him then, hear it from him what's planned."

"It is still a great shock to me when I hear reason and good sense coming out of the Templar's mouth," Zevran stated. "However, before I reach for my smelling salts, I would like to say that what Alistair suggests is reasonable."

Fergus stood and placed his empty brandy snifter on the burl wood desk, his back to the others. "Fine, fine. You're correct, the both of you," he finally confessed. He turned back to face Alistair. "But remember this: I have a duty to Ferelden and Highever, and if whatever the Wardens now have planned for this country interferes with that, I will not simply lie down and thank them for it. I will do what's right."

Alistair nodded once. "I understand, Fergus, and expected no less. Just hear the man out before you decide what to do about this."

"Agreed," Fergus said. "Now, if there's nothing else, I'm going to bed. I'm getting too old for this."

Zevran and Alistair grinned, each offering their well-wishes. Shortly after, Zevran also said his good night, and Alistair followed suit, returning to his room.

Annika had long since fallen asleep, her mouth hanging open slightly. He couldn't help but smile, any more than he could help saying a quiet 'Thank you' that they were again together. Quietly, he stripped out of his clothes and washed in the small basin, before carrying the single candle to the bedside, and climbing in.

As he pulled Annika gently into his arms, and his mind began to drift, he found himself wondering just who Warden-Commander Caron was, and what tidings he would bring.

A massive portion of this, and the chapters to come, is a direct result of the repeated prodding of my beta, Lisa. She dragged me back, wasted several hours of her life brainstorming with me, and helped me find the path that has eluded me for so long. So, thank you, Lisa, for the prodding, and for the endless patience. See you next week, and I'm buyin'!

Thank you for reading, reviewing, and for alerting. Thank you to all of you who have followed this story, despite the author's wandering attention. You are all amazing.