Judy Thank you for your comments Natalia Courtney- thanks for following the story. Hope you continue to enjoy.

Alton's laughter brought the rest of the group out of their stunned silence with Hawke and Varric joining in.

"I imagine there is a very interesting story behind that. I for one I would love to hear," Varric asked.

"There is. But we're not exploring tonight." Darragh growled.

The man in white armor examined me with what I assumed was disgust from the curl of his lip. I wasn't sure what offended him more, my telling of the story or my lack of shame.

I gave him a once over and dismissed him. I was more interested in the elf by the fireplace. My mana was reacting to the lyrium on him or in him. If it wasn't for the longsword strapped to his back, I would wonder if he were a mage. Not that the sword on my belt was part of my disguise.

I tried not to look at Darragh knowing he was still piqued with me as I passed him, entered the room, and picked up the drink off the table. One swallow and I almost spewed it in disgust. I forced myself to swallow, "Caridin's teeth! That's revolting."

Hawke picked up his cup swirled the liquid in the bottom and swallows. "I've had worse."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my gloved hand and ask. "And you admit that. I've had Dust Town ale that is better than that swill."

Varric saw his opportunity. "It is interesting that a human would know who Caridin is much less know how to swear using a paragon. Or have an opportunity to try Dust Town Ale"

I shake my head. "No not really. I tend to assimilate quickly especially if I am around a group of people. A friend of mine was grateful I was learning to swear like a proper Ferelden. Spend time with Templars and Chantry its Maker's blah, blah or Andraste's body part. Dwarves, its ancestor or paragon something. I've even been known to utter Vashedan or Brasca a time or two."

"Blasphemy. Why would you disgrace the Maker or the Holy Prophet like that?"

"Sebastian, half of Thedas says Makers Breath. You're going to wear yourself out if you get angry every time you hear it." Hawke said placating the warrior.

I stared at the floor and bit my tongue. It wasn't my intention to insult Varric's other guest. If he thought I was blaspheming now what would he do when I told him where he could put his maker or prophet. I lost my faith a long time ago.

Sebastian glared first at me and then at Hawke before bidding all of us a good night. Excusing himself, he left the room in a hurry.

I looked at my two companions knowing that I was responsible in a way. And I needed to fix it. "I apologize. I didn't mean to offend your friend. I need to find somewhere to stay tonight so maybe it would be better if we got that drink after you returned from your expedition."

"Oh, don't worry about Choir-boy. He was a cleric and sometimes gets his knickers in a twist. Hawke has to remind him at least once a day he is no longer in the Chantry. Now let me get you something you might enjoy drinking while you make yourselves comfortable."

While we were waiting for Varric to return Hawke picked up his cards, pulled two from the front, and tucked one behind. "So is it that you are a bad player or a bad gambler?"

I grinned and looked at Darragh who just closed his eyes and shook his head resigned. I found a seat across the table from the fireplace where I could watch the elf.

Teyrn laid at my feet.

The server from earlier brought in two more chairs. She made a display of placing them where Alton had ample view of her unlaced blouse. I wasn't sure who to feel sorrier for the waitress when tomorrow Alton was gone or Alton with a woman on the hunt.

"It's a long story but the short version is… neither. The dwarf was just better. And I got cocky thinking I plied him with enough of the good alcohol."

Varric had returned with a tray of stone goblets, putting them down in front of us and said, "Do you always bet your clothes?"

"What would counter for a dwarf's beard and mustache?"

"High stakes then. I knew I was going to enjoy having you around. I'd wager if I wrote your stories, they would be best sellers." Varric responded grinning.

"I doubt the readers would be impressed. The lives of Ash Warriors are dull," Darragh said smoothly trying to move a more neutral topic.

Varric sat at the head of the table watching the newcomers. He'd done some checking and things didn't quite add up. The information on the docks was that the ship that brought them to Kirkwall had no cargo other than four passengers and two hounds. They arrived in secret and filed no shipping manifest.

None of the crew or the remaining passenger disembarked from the Ferelden ship before continuing to it's other destination. Their offloading was so quite there weren't even rumors.

Those things could be explained. But the air of authority that hung around the woman pretending to be nothing told him something huge was happening. "You came for a drink and a story. The ale it's from your country. Do you like it?"

I took a sip dreading what someone from Kirkwall would think a Ferelden would drink and was surprised. "Where did you get Wilder Wine?" I took another sip and exclaimed, "It has apple blossoms. Ferelden is no longer occupied by Orlais. Whoever sold this to your bartender lost money."

Bethany, Hawke, Alton and Darragh all looked at me in confusion. All of them took a drink trying to figure out why or how I knew the drink wasn't what it claimed to be. Only Varric and the elf appeared unsurprised.

"So you come from southern Ferelden and highborn enough to drink wine over ale."

I chuckled the dwarf was good and devious. "Actually, no on both counts. My home before the blight was in the North West and I never had anything this fine to drink until two years ago. I do however have a friend who is an exceptionally good vintner and loves to let me try his brews. When I like something, he goes through every detail with me. I am actually quite spoiled because of his knowledge of alcohol."

"How did you know it was Orlesian?" The elf spoke for the first time since I entered the room.

The voice was interesting. Not in the higher, pitch range like the Dalish or city elves. Deeper but no less lyrical. But not enough to hide either the sarcasm or the distrust. "Wilder wine is one of those things appropriated by Orlais during the occupation. But they weren't content with just stealing it. They had to change it to make it their own. I don't know why, the apple blossom does nothing to enhance it."

"Not to change the subject but Darragh said you would tell us about the King and traveling with the Grey Wardens. We were hoping you could tell us because every time we asked the Grey Warden here, he would get maudlin and start talking about someone named Morrigan and how it was her fault."