It's just like colouring in

"You are really going to let him do this?"

Alistair said, but for all his protestations he had drawn closer rather than further away, perverse curiosity getting the better of him. Dain shook his head,

"I've had worse pain than needles in my skin and the scars to prove it. This time I get a mark, a memory that is a good one. Plus, if Zevran can get tattoos from his head to…er, feet? Then I can get one."

Alistair didn't answer but pouted his bottom lip out as if thinking.

"Plus, he said he asked you and you wussed out. This way I can beat you."

"It's not a contest!"

Dain laughed,

"Everything is a contest Alistair."

"Well I only lost because of all the massage he said was involved."

"If that is true, then I have a proposition for you."

Alistair looked at him carefully, unspeaking.

"Those words were followed by some unmentionable times when I was training to be a templar."

"Oh, if this is a sordid sex story Alistair. Please do not leave out any details."

Zevran said from the doorway, his hands filled with leather bags and a bottle of alcohol. Alistair's face went bright red, Dain laughed, the chuckling continuing as Zevran sauntered up. The men reclined in Dain's room, several chairs surrounding them commandeered from other rooms, as well as food stolen from the kitchens. A low table previously cleared was now filled with Zevran's tools, leather rolls rolled out to show their contents. Alistair gulped,

"See what you have got yourself in for?"

"You know Alistair if Leiliana knew you were going to get a tattoo she would find it sexy."

Dain smothered his grin at Alistair's new thoughtful look.

"I heard my name – oh are you getting a tattoo? I have seen it done back in Orlais, but not really up close. May I watch?"

During her speech Leiliana had appeared and moved inside, drawn up a chair, kissing Alistair before alighting in it and looking expectantly at Zevran before looking at Dain. He was sitting upright, leaning back against the wall topless.

"Just you?"

Before Dain could answer Alistair nearly ripped his shirt as he yanked it over his head.

"No no, me too."

"What by the Maker is happening? No wait I don't know if I actually want you to answer that."

Wynne said. She had been walking past the open door, but at the sight of the half naked Dain and Alistair's rate of undress had paused her steps.

"Oh please Wynne, do join us. You and your lovely…"

"Zev, please. I know this will fuel some of your fantasies, but I feel compelled to ask that you leave Wynne out of it. Please."

Zevran acquiesced with a bow, Wynne closing the door as she moved down the hall.

"What design are you getting?"

Leiliana asked, peering at the needles and vials of ink Zevran withdrew from the different packets of leather.

"Are you getting the laurels of the Couslands?"

Dain shook his head,

"No, the griffin of the Wardens."

"It will be a blue white and silver triumph. If I do say so myself."

"I did think of the laurels, but the Wardens are my life now. Duncan lost his last name when he became a Warden, so did I."

"Are you going to massage him?"

Alistair said, Leiliana punctuating his glowing cheeks with giggles. Dain started to smile, but then turned his head carefully to study Zevran. The elf looked to actually be thinking hard, and was currently staring at the expanse of flesh he had bared already. With a look that could only be described as rueful he sighed and answered,

"Ah, alas no. Dain and I have come to an agreement."

There was brightness in his voice as he suddenly smiled,

"But like he says the fantasies in my head are my own."

It was Dain's turn to blush and Alistair's to smirk. Ink bottles were unstoppered and the group watched in fascination and silence as Zevran mixed colours together, eyeing up the tracing done of the rearing griffon Dain had chosen.

"Right! Dain would you please recline fully."

Zevran's voice was an Antivan purr, Dain shook his head but shimmied down the bed lying down fully, Zevran placing the newly mixed pottles of blue and white on Dain's stomach, wiping an acrid solution onto his flat pectoral.

"Ready?"

"Do your worst."

As he saw the grin on Zevran's face Dain wondered he had actually said the right thing to the rogue.

"And done. It looks very beautiful."

Dain opened his eyes, Zevran wiping the reddened skin around his new tattoo with a wet cloth. It seemed to glow with the silver and white Zevran had used. He sat up, craning his neck to look at the mark.

"Are you ready Alistair?"

Dain looked up at Leiliana and Alistair, while the woman looked excited Alistair swallowed hard.

"You'll be fine. It's like something is scratching you hard. But you can ignore it after a while. Plus you've had worse sparring Lei."

Alistair stood though he still looked dubious, he offered his hand to Dain and pulled him up, taking his place on the bed. Dain reached for his shirt, pulling it on but leaving the ties at his throat loose as he poured a chalice of wine. His appetite had reared its head early into the tattoo, even with having had dinner only a few hours ago, but Zevran hadn't allowed him to nab something. And now he found himself swallowing voracious mouthfuls of bread and left over meat from the roast. A bitten off whimper had him looking at Alistair who was pressing himself into the bed, one hand clasped by Leiliana. He watched with a grin as Zevran smiled, seeing to take pleasure in the act. And perhaps it did, the mind of the elf was a…murky place. Setting himself on the edge of the table he watched in silence, hands still moving food to his mouth and back. When Zevran leant back to study his drawing he spoke,

"Will Eamon be up to talking to us tomorrow?"

Alistair turned his head, just capturing Dain in the corner of his sight.

"Yes, he said he would. But he wanted to know what had happened. Teagan and Isolde gave him the version of the castle, I gave him that of the village and the Circle. And Jowan."

Dain tossed the half eaten roll behind him, the chalice nearly slipping from the table as he didn't look when he put it down. He paced a little, thinking hard on the apostate mage before uttering nearly to himself,

"Jowan, Maker I'd forgotten. I'd thought to Conscript him."

As he turned to continue pacing, he saw the twin pale looks on Leiliana and Alistair's faces and he lost his words as.

"Eamon has already passed judgement hasn't he? Aeonar?"

Leiliana didn't manage to lift her gaze, instead just giving a little shake of her head. The rage that swelled this time was cold.

"He's executed him."

"He didn't think that the Templars or Irving…He spoke to Teagan about Jowan and made his decision quickly."

Dain was silent and still, Zevran had stepped back as Alistair had spoken, the needle still held in his hand. All three looked at his frozen stature, eyes turned away from them. But even though he didn't look at them, his menace was nearly palpable. Then Dain spun, nearly punching open the door and stalking out. It banged back on its hinges before smacking back into its frame.

Dain was furious, it followed behind him nearly a physical wake. Servants sidled past him, some ducking behind corners to not make eye contact with this furious Warden. Though he headed for Eamon it was Teagan who appeared first, surprised at Dain's appearance let alone the anger that seemed to shimmer off him. He didn't wear any sort of armour, nor a visible weapon. But his skin glimmered with a slight sweat. But it was the utter barely balanced fury in his gaze that caught him, especially directed at him or his brother.

"Evening Dain."

"Where is Eamon?"

"My brother is sleeping. Could I help?"

Teagan was surprised at the brusque manners of the Warden, his bearing as Bann reasserting itself. It didn't seem to make an impression.

"Jowan."

The sneer was obvious on Teagan's face.

"He went to his end with honour he didn't have when he was poisoning my brother."

"When he was ordered to by Loghain in the promise that he could return to the Circle."

"Your point being?"

Dain's gaze narrowed a little.

"Fairly obvious I would have thought. As Warden Commander I have the right to Conscript any person I see fit. I saw courage in him, whether or not he was a blood mage, to stand up for his mistakes and atone for them."

"You thought to Conscript him! You yourself were there when he stated that he was a blood mage, ready to use it again!"

Teagan's voice rose louder in his reply. An effort to combat the seeming effortless flame in Dain's, Teagan unable to cover his shock at the announcement of conscription.

"Being a blood mage is not an obstacle to becoming a Warden. Destroying the blight is paramount and having a blood mage in my arsenal is no problem. You and Eamon both showed a lack of judgment, letting your emotions get in the way of being a Bann and a Teryn."

"How dare you say that!"

"How dare I? Let me tell you something Teagan. In taking back Soldier's Keep I met a blood mage who had been experimenting on Wardens. His brothers. I didn't release him from his oath as a Warden because he was blood mage. It was his utter lack of fellowship with his brethren. To be honest I am very, extremely, tempted to state that Jowan was a Warden recruit and his execution was against me as Warden Commander."

Teagan's mouth fell open. Here was the son of Bryce Cousland. His diplomatic and political upbringing honed now as Commander of the Grey.

"You would do that?"

"Believe me I can. And more besides. I will talk to you and your brother tomorrow. But I cannot say that my anger regarding this will have cooled."

Dain didn't wait for permission or even for a reply from the dumbfounded Teagan, he spun and moved off, his bare feet thudding on the stones. Their words had been by no means quiet though they hadn't yelled. Eamon and Isolde had heard them as had Wynne. He didn't return to his room, instead Dain moved to the main hall, the fire here still roaring and more than warm enough. He slid down the wall, resting his back against a tapestry, resting an elbow on a knee. He released a slow breath, so glad that his anger had made him eloquent in speech and not with his fists. Then he realised that Eamon had passed judgement and had it carried out while he had been busy in his room with Valenna and his anger turned onto himself. Dain buried his face in his hands, pushing hard into his eyes.

"Dain?"

He glanced up, seeing Morrigan standing before the raised fire platform.

"Morrigan."

His voice was quiet with strained emotion. She moved up the stairs silently, curling up on the top one looking at him.

"Are you alright?"

"You mean you didn't hear that?"

He mumbled, his words heard earning a grin from Morrigan.

"I heard, but only because I was close. I didn't think that you would have been brave enough to Conscript the mage, turns out I was wrong."

"You don't say that often."

"What?"

He snorted,

"That you would compliment me and openly admit that you were wrong."

A nasty smile lifted one side of her lips,

"Oh, but you were doing something quite important."

His eyes narrowed, fury now aimed at Morrigan.

"I could smell her on you."

She sniffed delicately at the air.

"Morrigan I give you the courtesy of one warning. Get gone or I will not be able to help myself. I wouldn't mind seeing if Avernus was right, if it is possible to skin someone whole."

Dain wouldn't have been surprised if she had hissed at him as she stood and left. He slumped further against the wall wishing that he could have fallen into the stones. But he didn't and couldn't taking a deep breath he stood and simply stood before the flames warming his hands.

"Is this what you meant father? This responsibility is bigger than even you could have thought. I wouldn't ever have been Teryn but as Warden Commander of Ferelden, granted that there are only two of us…But I cannot let this lie, it has taken a good man's life. Yes he fell from his path, but he was working to redeem it. I cannot let his memory be so tarnished. Loghain and Howe have ruined so many lives."

Dain whispered out loud to his father, praying so hard to the Maker that he still couldn't bring himself to forgive, that he would reappear like he had in the cold rooms of the Gauntlet. But no looming spectre was forthcoming and he dropped his hands from the flames. There was no point in prolonging his return to his room, he left the hall and headed back up the torch lined stairs to the living quarters. When he opened the door Zevran's tattoo kit had been packed up, but all three were now sitting on the chairs set around the fire, each holding a cup of wine. They looked up as one as he entered and closed the door.

"Is Teagan still physically intact?"

Alistair asked Dain lifted an eyebrow but slid into a spare seat.

"Yeah, I only spoke to him."

"You were very articulate. I agree with your sentiment if that is of any importance."

Dain rubbed his head hard, stealing Zevran's wine and sculling a few mouthfuls.

"Thanks, but I don't feel so full of Commander quality right now."

"You couldn't have stopped Eamon from making his decision."

"Yes I could have. He couldn't stand against Conscription without making a very big deal and a very angry enemy. Instead he executes a mage, yes who did wrong and I had never shown any intention previous of Conscription but they got rid of him very quickly. He cannot talk to us tonight but he can send Jowan to execution."

"He is the Arl Dain."

"I know that Alistair, trust me. I understand that title very well. But he shouldn't have, he should have waited till tomorrow when he talks to me, us. We were the ones who fought for Redcliffe, made the decision to spare Connor for the chance to get to the Circle to send a mage into the Fade. Teagan knows now that the decision was folly, if he doesn't tell Eamon tonight then I will tell him tomorrow."

"But Jowan cannot be brought back, whether Eamon knows his decision was wrong."

Dain shook his head in agreement,

"No he cannot. Here is where I do not know where to go. I have the angry part covered, more than covered, but now I cannot alienate Eamon I need him too much."

Dain pulled on his lower lip, sipping slowly at Zevran's wine.

"I was going to offer my services as assassin, but I think that would cause more harm than good."

"You're joking about killing off my uncle?"

"In my line of work one must have a sense of humour, no?"

"I understand your position Dain. You must keep Eamon, but you cannot seem to be weak. Is there a middle ground that you can take?"

"I said that I could have Jowan instated as a Warden Recruit, now posthumously. I don't think it would make a difference to Eamon, but it would make a difference to how Jowan was remembered. Especially at Warden's Keep and in the records at Weishaupt."

Leiliana smiled,

"I think that it sounds like you've already made a decision. And it's the best one, in the circumstances."

"The only one you mean. But yes, you are right. Now I do remember this is my room, but Alistair could I speak to you a minute?"

Zevran picked up his gear, sketching a salute before leaving. Leiliana placed her chalice on a low table and kissed Alistair's cheek before waving to Dain.

"What's wrong?"

Dain brought in a deep breath,

"You haven't shown any at Redcliffe your relationship with Leiliana. Will you say anything tomorrow?"

It was Alistair's turn to inhale.

"I hadn't thought on it. Have any ideas?"

"No. But whatever you decide to say or not say I am right behind you."

Alistair tipped back his wine, swallowing all of it at once before leaving Dain alone. He turned a little in his chair so he could look at the armour on the mannequin. It was heavy and shone now, some servant had cleaned all traces of darkspawn blood and grime. In it he saw now the real responsibility of being not just a Warden but the Commander. And over laced with it the guilt of his time with Valenna and how it cost Jowan his life.