9:30 Dragon, King's Highway Fork to North Road

It was still another half a day to where the Mage Circle was located in a tower in the middle of Lake Calenhad. It was early morning, their camp was made the night before and the reddish orange dawn of the new day matched the bright embers that were the remains of a fire which Sten tended. It was the end of his watch and he spent the end of it making food for the rest of the party.

Alone, it allowed the Qunari blessed silence, time away from the useless chatter of the rest of the party. He stirred a pot of porridge hanging over the fire, a hot meal was a welcome thing with all their time on the road. It smelled of berries and spice.

Alistair was the first to come out of his tent. He wore a loose tunic and light breeches, his usual sleeping clothes. A stretch and the former Templar made way to the fire, the smell of food drawing him over.

Sten made no conversation, as usual, but he did offer Alistair a hearty bowl of the hot porridge. He offered no words, his grunts communicated enough. The younger man took it with a thanks, he was about to turn and head back to his tent but had a sudden thought.

"Sten, could I have another serving?" Alistair asked the large Qunari.

"Finish your first, you can have seconds after." Finally, Sten spoke.

"What? No! It's not for me, it's for…" Alistair tried correcting as his eyes drifted to the tent farthest from camp. Sten saw him looking.

"The witch?" There was surprise in Sten's question as he eyed him.

"Yes." Alistair responded self-consciously. Another helping of food was ladled in a bowl by the larger man who gave him a wary appraisal. Wooden spoons were given after.

"Be mindful of your actions, Alistair. She is not one to be trifled with." A low rumble of his voice was full of stern warning. It made the younger man gulp.

"Just trying to be nice, no need to overthink anything." Alistair muttered as he walked towards Morrigan's tent.

He breathed deep. No reason to feel nervous, he told himself. No harm in just trying. Though he remembered the less than cordial words Morrigan spoke when Leliana tried to make friendly conversation.

Then he remembered the taste of her neck as he kissed his way down it. The feel of her as he held her, her body against his, her slight tremble. She spoke with less edge then, it was neither venomous nor cutting. Well, not most of it that he remembered. Things were better between them now, mostly, sort of, he wasn't completely sure but it was definitely better. He still didn't know what he thought about Morrigan really, though he wanted to.

He wanted to know her completely. Not in the Chantry sense, either. Maker, what was he thinking? He didn't know where his mind went at times when it came to her.

Morrigan had done her best to stay separate from the others, setting her place at camp far enough away from prying eyes but close enough to remain in earshot. A sigh from Alistair in front of the branches of leaves and odd leather skins she used as a tent and he rapped his knuckles on the wooden portions of the shelter. He turned his back to it, holding the bowls awkwardly.

"Yes?" Morrigan poked her head out the tent flap.

Alistair turned back around too quickly, almost losing his hold on the food. He thankfully recovered and looked over his shoulder to Morrigan. Her hair was down and she looked as though she just woke but still seemed so…

"Maker, she's beautiful." Alistair thought, his heart starting to pound in his ears. Sten's words reverberated in his mind as loudly as the thudding thing in his chest.

"I thought you'd like to break fast with me."

He tried his best not to stutter, though with what had happened the other night left unspoken, there was a measure of comfort between them since.

She eyed him suspiciously despite. This was not the usual behavior for Alistair. His nervousness grew during the impromptu inspection. Then her eyes went to the bowls in his hand.

"Who cooked that?" She lowered her voice conspiratorially while looking about.

"Sten." Alistair replied in the same tone, then added "Why?" A little confused.

Morrigan gave him another pointed look and ducked her head back into the tent for an agonizingly long moment for Alistair. He masked it well when she came out again dressed as she usually did, a furred leather jerkin and cloth barely covering her chest while feathers adorned her shoulder and a reddish colored hood she left down. Her hair was done up again and Alistair could not help but keep the image of her long tresses falling over her pale shoulders.

"I dislike how Lyna makes it. Dalish cuisine does not agree with me it seems." She admitted to Alistair as she held her out her hand to him and he gave her a bowl.

"Oh, well I'm okay with it I think, or at least her cooking hasn't affected me as yet."

The witch kept two long logs laid out near her fire pit as makeshift benches, Alistair found a spot on one which allowed him to face the rest of the camp. He offered up a spoon to her and she sat opposite him after taking it. The porridge was nutty and sweetly spiced from their foraged supplies, perhaps even some cinnamon Steni had secreted in their travels since Redcliffe. The food was hot and filled their bellies. From the look on her face, Alistair saw that Quanari cooking seemed to agree with Morrigan better than Dalish.

Neither spoke, and only the sounds of the morning; songs of birds, rustling leaves and spoons scraping wooden bowls, filled their silence. It was comfortable at first but Alistair could not help but stare at the way Morrigan ate from her spoon, how her lips pursed as she did. He watched her neck move as she swallowed. Those images brought him to memories of how her flesh felt hot against his lips. His nerves grew and he felt his ears burn.

"Are you feeling well, Alistair?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" He tried to be nonchalant but the redness of his ears were now traveling over his face.

"You seem…" She started.

"I don't know how to do this anymore!" Alistair blurted into his porridge, breathing hard a little.

"Do what?" Morrigan asked, her eyes wide confused after eating a spoonful of food. She remained aloof despite.

"I thought I would try to be nicer to you," he managed softly. "After last night." He added even quieter. "But I realized I don't even know how to talk to you without…"

"Losing your temper?" Morrigan finished for him. She slurped from her spoon eyeing him with those cold yellow eyes of hers. He frowned but nodded.

"And my mind sometimes." he paused a long few moments, skirting around the other ways she makes him feel. "I'm tired of being that way, it's exhausting." He sighed, as though making his point. "But I know what you think of me, so I don't expect us to be best friends or anything."

"Never presume to know what I am thinking, Alistair. And we will never be friends." Morrigan said evenly. It was a statement of fact, no insult was intended. Alistair was crushed hearing her, but kept himself composed. What were they after what happened between the two of them?

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes and tiredly waved his spoon at her. "We are what we are."

Morrigan looked at him a moment but did not reply. Alistair chose to stare off into the distance across the camp as he ate. He spotted Leliana coming out of Lyna's tent, though trying to be discreet and he grinned to himself. The redheaded bard rounded to the rear of the tent and the elf came out a moment later with a kettle. Morrigan followed his eyes and her own widened slightly.

"How long has that been happening?" the witch seemed surprised.

"I'd wager since after Lothering. Lyna was pretty weird about it at first." Alistair told her mid bite.

"Interesting. I did not know that. I didn't even know that she was interested in women in that way."

"Seemed she didn't either, really. Best talk to her about it if you want to know more."

"Hmm, yes, 'twould be only polite. You had feelings for her, did you not? At the beginning?"

"Maker, you just speak your mind, don't you?" Alistair was flustered. It was not something he wanted to be known to any, least of all her, but the witch was perceptive and with them since before the beginning.

"Is there another way to do so?"

"Yes, politer ways. Ways that hold one's tongue."

"That sounds wearisome." Morrigan decided, wrinkling her nose.

"I thought I did. We have a connection, she believes. I mistook it for something else, it hasn't changed things though. I'll care for her no matter, and she will care for me. We'll always be friends." Alistair answered her previous question.

Another quiet moment settled between them. Even with Alistair admitting his former feelings for their leader it felt lighter than before. It seemed more comfortable this time. Alistair finished his meal, watched and waited till Morrigan was done with hers and stood. He stepped to the witch with his hand out.

"And what exactly are we, Alistair?" She asked, her bowl proffered up to him. Her eyes met his, and she seemed to peer into him.

"What?"

"You're words, 'we are what we are." She repeated what he said before offhandedly. He took her bowl and spoon, piled it on top of his and regarded her a moment before he spoke.

"Well, since we'll never be friends, we can at least be teammates." He told her simply. "You can trust me at your back no matter what. And I'll trust you with mine."

He turned and walked away, she could only look on as he went. He joined Sten and Lyna at the larger fire close to the other tents. The bard joined shortly after and Morrigan went back into her shelter not before giving Alistair one last look of consideration.

They were ambushed. The attack came nearly right after the group had broken camp and set off on the road. Bandits with a hedge wizard appeared from the tree line of the road to the Mage Circle and pressed their advantage of surprise expertly, having the party nearly surrounded. The bandits were poorly armored but well armed, they sported desperate, angry expressions, Lyna's keeper mentioned how Blights affected the mind's of shemlen.

Alistair and Sten in their heavier armor made a front line for Morrigan and Leliana who stayed by Bohdan's cart for a measure of cover. Lyna dived under tall grass to hide herself, the mabari Ayam, barked wildly to distract their enemy. The merchant, Bodhan and his son were underneath the cart, staying close to one another.

The bard used her bow to try and pick off the enemies at the enemy's rear line while Morrigan would use her magicks to ensnare or debilitate their foes from afar. Arrows flew striking Alistair's raised shield as he charged into the bandits, sword held ready. He had cut down two with an expert thrust and slash. Sten, who was close behind, swung his greatsword in a large arch scattering bandits in front of him and beheading one as they ran.

Alistair gave a quick scan and saw more bandits coming out from the thick brush of the forest, they headed towards the witch and the bard.

"Watch for the flank!" Alistair bellowed and saw Lyna come up from behind a bandit, slitting their throat. Another was overpowered and mauled by their mabari warhound, Ayam. Lyna threw her dagger at a third and it stuck in his eye, blood spurted out as he fell.

The former Templar noticed that arrows stopped flying at him and gave another look at the battlefield. A hail of missiles came from a short distance, several hit the wooden cart and a few bounced off Morrigan who cast a Rock Armor spell, granite grew over her skin keeping the arrows from piercing her.

Lyna killed another bandit, driving her daggers into his back. She was breathing hard as she pulled her blades out, blood covering her and her weapons. She saw the arrows coming down on Leliana and Morrigan, the bard had taken cover under the cart, along with Bodhan and his son, Sandal.

Morrigan continued to wave her staff about, hurling her elemental magicks. Men stood frozen, or lay burning by her frost and fire spells. She felt the Rock Armor was waning, and cast an Arcane Shield that surrounded her in another protective layer. She tried casting another spell, a longer one that required incantation and focus but more arrows peppered her magical shield distracting her from her casting.

The first few merely bounced off the surface of hardened arcane force. Then some started to stick in the barrier like Alistair's shield. Arrow heads embedded deeper and deeper into Morrigan's Arcane Shield till a few were more than halfway through it.

Alistair saw yet another volley of arrows fly. "Get under cover!" he called to Morrigan hoping she'd listen.

Sten was controlling the middle of the battlefield. The large man split a bandit in half with his huge blade and was able to keep another half-dozen at swords length. Lyna was nowhere to be seen but that was normal, and Ayam had just come off another mauled bandit. More arrows shot out into the sky. They were clearly focusing on the witch.

And then an explosion a close distance away knocked Alistair on his back. Head spinning and arse aching, an obvious reminder of his mistake; the Maker damned mage. He had lost track of the enemy caster and thought that Lyna or Ayam had already taken care of him. Unless they had and these bandits were now somehow throwing bombs at them, but Alistair didn't think the attackers were that well equipped.

Alistair was on his back trying to clear his vision. There was a shape over him, too blurry to recognize and when he finally realized it was a bandit with his sword raised for a killing blow, he scrambled for his sword or shield that he could not find. An arrow pierced the bandits throat and she fell over with a gurgle.

Alistair got to his feet and saw Leliana still under the cart but with her short bow at the ready. He nodded to her and received one in turn. He got back on his feet, finding his sword and shield again. He looked over the battlefield, trying to get a scope of things. He must have felled at least five men already, how many more did these bandits have? They had to end this quickly.

"Sten! The archers!" Alistair pointed at the direction where the arrows flew from with a wavering sword. His knees shook slightly as he regained balance. No word came from the tall Qunari but he moved quickly with long strides, dispatching another bandit and rushing to where the archer line might be.

"Lyna! Get that bloody mage!" He called out to the elf, despite not seeing her and hoping she was in earshot.

He turned to check on Morrigan who had four men approaching her with swords drawn. He gripped his shield and his sword, felt a surge seeing those that tried to attack the witch. Alistair charged at them.

The Dalish rogue saw her target. Sne crept low into the scrub grass trying to remain unseen from her prey. The Grey Warden heard Alistair's order and rushed to dispatch her prey. She saw the mage try to cast a spell and scrambled on her hands and knees to propel herself at him. She was able to move the distance quietly to interrupt the caster with a swift kick in the middle of his legs.

Ayam leaped at the mage clutching his balls and was mauled, sharp canine teeth tore out his throat. Lyna looked over the battlefield for another foe to kill. She saw a group of bandits rushing towards Morrigan, Alistair charged one, and she threw a dagger at another.

Leliana came out from under the cart and drew her daggers to attack another that approached Morrigan. The redhead pounced. The bandit had his back turned to the redhead and she stabbed him through the neck before facing off with another armed with a sword and shield.

Alistair was pushed farther and farther away from Morrigan's position. He tried not to look over to her needing attention on his foe. He parried a blow with his sword and ducked under a slash to his head. A dodge to another parry and Alistair struck out with his shield, striking his foe full in the face, dazing him a moment before Alistair cut him through.

A final bandit raised his sword at Morrigan, who had finally quit chanting. Alistair was much too far to do anything, nor did he didn't have the stamina for another charge. So, he dropped his shield, gripped his sword with both hands and threw it with all his might. The blade flew true and struck the bandit in his side, nearly cutting him in half.

With a cry, Lyna called any to follow her and Leliana rushed with Ayam to where Sten could be heard still fighting. Alistair, deciding that they were more than enough to help the Qunari, took the moment to find his sword and shield then trotted over to Morrigan.

She looked tired as well, her shoulders coming and down as she leaned slightly on her staff. Her brows came together and there was a look of annoyance on her face. She did not look happy to see him.

"I had him." Morrigan said, breathing hard a little.

"You are un-bloody-believable." Alistair replied, rolling his eyes at her thanklessness. He reached into a side pouch and handed her his last small vial of lyrium. She took it without words, uncorking with a flick of her thumb and downed its contents.

"I do not need yours, nor anyone else's help." Morrigan declared after a swallow. "I could have killed those four myself easily. In fact had you not sent the Qunari to their archers, I'd have been able to use my magicks more efficiently, allowing him to stay closer to us."

Alistair shook his head at her. "Excuse us for trying to protect our mage in the middle of a fight."

"You are a poor tactician." Morrigan sneered, turning her chin at him haughtily. "You should let me handle the archers. You must realize my advantage is reaching foes from afar, while Sten's is killing up close. I am sure your betters taught you that…" She was suddenly shoved hard by Alistair, interrupting her scolding. She fell to the dirt on her hands and knees and her anger exploded.

"HOW! BLOODY! DARE! YOU!" Morrigan growled as she practically jumped up from her place on the ground.

Primordial lightning crackled at her fingertips. She turned to find Alistair, ready to electrify the idiot Templar to ash but then saw him on his knees. His face was ashen and looking down at a crossbow bolt piercing the plate armor over his belly.

A bandit, perhaps a straggler from the melee with the others, was reloading as fast she could a short distance away. Morrigan's eyes were wide with panic as they darted back and forth between the two. Alistair looked up at her and moved his mouth like he was trying to say something. His eyes were unfocused and even tried to draw his sword but coughed up blood instead.

More blood pooled around his bent legs. A tight knot developed in Morrigan's chest so constricting she could make no breath, make no thought as this alien pressure threatened to crush her from within. Morrigan saw the crossbow almost finished being loaded and no more thought occurred, just magic.

A vulnerability hex to strengthen consequent spells upon her target, then the spell of Horror that shot at from her staff like a bat. The bandit dropped his weapon and began screaming in fright. The woman clutched at her hair and scratched into her face as she rocked back and forth where she stood.

The moment was used to cast the sole healing spell in Morrigan's magical repertoire. It was enough to stem most of Alistair's bleeding but not all of it, and he had already lost so much blood already. Finding her fury again, Morrigan turned back to the screaming bandit.

A lightning bolt crackled from the witch's free hand. With a loud zZzap, electricity arched through the bandit's leather armor and out of her back, charring flesh and hide, leaving a smoking hole big enough to see through. The smell of ozone and burning meat wafted through the air as the bandit's body dropped limply to the dirt.

Alistair had fallen over on his side and was gasping as though he were drowning. The pool of blood beneath him only got bigger. Morrigan rushed to his side, dropping her staff and summoning healing energies into her hands. She placed them on either side of Alistair's head administering as much of the restorative magic as she could.

Alistair's breathing became even and but his eyes would drift and would not settle on anything. Morrigan desperately tried to focus on her healing spell but she could feel her energies waning. She had little mana left and no more lyrium potions to be had.

She scrambled over Alistair, cursing his large and heavy form while trying to undo the straps and buckles of his armor so she might apply the poultices that Lyna made. Morrigan's hands started to shake as she failed to work the fastens of the platemail and tugging only made Alistair moan louder and in pain.

Panic washed over her like an ocean wave. Her mind was scattered and no rationale came to her, so with a hoarse voice she tried to cry out, but could only make a strangled sobbing noise that could not carry over the battlefield. She tried again and after a deep breath she did not recognize the desperate pleading wail that seemed to come out from her lungs of their own accord.

"HELP ME! PLEASE! ANYONE, I NEED HELP!"

Suddenly, something wet started to drip on Alistair's pale face. It was not until the others arrived did Morrigan realize they were her tears.