This chapter may not have fights, but it is crucial to the story! More blood next chapter, when we reach Orzammar!

This chapter is dedicated to my Canadian family - I have never known anyone like you guys! Much love to you all!

A special thanks to voltagelisa, whose support means all to me!

Thanks to everyone who has read and favorited this story!

A special welcome to my newest readers: Sarkule and Kira Kyuuketsuki - Thank you for joining me on this trip! I can't tell you how much it means!

To the awesome "We Hate Howe Club" and my repeat reviewers: voltagelisa, Lavinia Luscious, zevgirl, Miltonia, CCBug, sandradee27, Nithu, Nanicane, WitchWeaver,

tgail73, KayraCousland, Eriana10, AlexSavard, AdalaeAmell, heavenXscent, Constantano, Steve 69, Deeca, Sharem and Deliciously Weird: Hugs to you all for your support!

Leliana looked up from the etching she was studying; her eyes widening as she saw the condition of the party approaching from inside the temple. They were covered in blood and gore, and most of their armor was torn. Alistair and Zeva each had an arm around Duncan, who was limping heavily on his right leg. Zevran followed behind them, holding his left arm close to his body. Morrigan was the only companion who appeared relatively unscathed. Though her robes were disheveled, she had far less blood on her person and she seemed to be walking normally.

"Wynne, hurry!" Leliana called, rushing toward the group. The mage was instantly at her side and she knelt by Duncan when Zeva and Alistair laid him on the ground, examining his leg. Her hands glowed brightly as she ran them over the wounds, and Duncan sighed in relief as her magic enveloped him.

"What in the Maker's name happened to you?" Leliana exclaimed, stepping up to Zeva and checking her for injuries. "Did the cultists do this?"

"No, my dear bard," Zevran answered, groaning as he took a seat next to the Warden Commander. "This would be the result of our tussle with the Andraste dragon."

"Dragon?" she cried, her hand flying to her mouth. "The cultists had an actual dragon? And what has this to do with Andraste?"

"It is a very long story," Zeva stated. "And I promise to share the entire ordeal with you. However, I think we could all use some rest right now. I suggest we allow Wynne to heal Duncan and Zevran and then head back to camp. Did you have any problems while we were gone?"

Sten stepped up, gazing down at Zeva; a wry smile on his face. "We encountered one group of soldiers, but they proved to be no match for us," he said. "So, you fought a dragon and lived to tell the tale, Warden? If it is indeed true, I may have misjudged your abilities as a warrior."

"My, my…" Morrigan purred. "Yet another compliment from our stoic Qunari. Zeva, I think you may have a new admirer, should you wish to rid yourself of the useless man you currently associate with."

"Morrigan, please," Zeva pleaded, shaking her head. "I am far too exhausted to play mediator right now. Thank you, Sten, for the compliment. As to the truth of my tale, take a look at these." Reaching into her pack, she drew out several large scales and passed them over to the Qunari.

"Oh, my," Brother Genitivi said, limping over to the group. "Those are extraordinary. Whatever do you plan to do with them, Warden?"

Zeva sighed, stretching her arms over her head to loosen her aching muscles. "I was thinking of having new armor crafted for Alistair, as his has seen better days," she answered, smiling warmly at her fellow Warden, whose eyes had widened considerably at her declaration.

"Really?" he asked, and she could sense the excitement in his voice. "You would do that for me? You struck the killing blow on the dragon. The new armor should be yours."

"I think dragon scales would be much better suited for heavy armor," Zeva began, "and you will look positively dashing in new dragon armor. I am sure of it." She chuckled as she saw the furious flush spread across his cheeks. "Besides, I am rather fond of my Dalish attire, so I think I will simply have it repaired."

"As are we all, my beautiful Zeva," Zevran said softly, his eyes travelling down her body suggestively. He grunted loudly and turned his attention to Wynne, who moved his injured arm rather roughly following his comment. "You are an evil woman, my dear mage," he pouted. "Do you always treat your patients so?"

"Only the ones who insist on making a nuisance of themselves," Wynne replied bluntly, smiling at Duncan as she continued healing the elf's broken limb. Duncan nodded appreciatively before standing carefully and approaching Zeva.

"Why I ever let you talk me into fighting a dragon, I will never know," he said, staring down at her sternly. "You do realize we could have all been killed because of your and Zevran's little stunt?"

Placing her hands on her hips, Zeva glared back at him. "The Archdemon is a dragon, is it not?" she asked angrily. "Eventually we will need to face one, so we might as well get the practice in now. Besides, I told you what I was planning before I blew that horn. It's not as if I did it without your knowledge."

"That is not the point!" Duncan exclaimed. "We have no choice but to face the Archdemon! You chose to engage this dragon when it wasn't necessary. And you did it without a full complement of soldiers. It wasn't wise, Zeva, and I shouldn't have allowed it."

"Allowed it?" Zeva spat, her cheeks beginning to flush. She opened her mouth to continue and Leliana quickly interrupted, stepping up next to the arguing couple.

"Were you successful in finding the Urn, Zeva?" she asked, her concerned gaze flicking between them.

Giving Duncan a final furious glare, Zeva turned her attention to the bard. "Yes, Leli, we found it," she said, walking back to her pack and retrieving the small pouch from inside. "We were able to take a pinch of the Ashes after a series of trials. Hopefully, we will get them to Eamon in time."

"Maker be praised!" Brother Genitivi said, moving to stand next to Leliana and gazing into the small container. "I am truly unworthy to look upon this. Wh.. what was it like?"

"It was a most magnificent sight," Zevran said, and Zeva knew from the look he gave her that Andraste's Ashes had nothing to do with his comment. She quickly looked away to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks. Leliana glanced between the two, her eyebrow raised in question.

Unfazed, Brother Genitivi continued. "You are truly blessed to have found it, Warden Zeva!" he exclaimed. "Your discovery has insured that my research will no longer be discounted by the Chantry."

Hobbling excitedly, the brother continued speaking aloud; though his words were more for himself than anyone else in attendance. "We must arrange an expedition!" he explained. "There is so much history here to share with the world. And pilgrims should be allowed to come and see the Urn…."

"Wonderful," Morrigan complained. "I suppose they will charge the fools to see a dead woman's remains?"

"Morrigan!" Leliana exclaimed, her face showing the disgust that was evident in her voice. "Must you always be so disrespectful?"

"Respect is something to be earned, bard," the witch retorted, her hands glowing lightly. "Neither you nor your dead prophetess have done anything to deserve my respect; and I will not make more of these Ashes than they are."

"Wynne," Zeva began, too exhausted to listen to yet another fight, "is everyone healed enough to travel back to camp?"

The mage nodded as she collected her belongings. "I would suggest carrying Brother Genitivi down the mountain, however," she explained. "He will need another days rest before he will be able to walk for any length of time."

Zeva glanced at Sten, who nodded and moved to Genitivi, lifting him unceremoniously off the ground. The brother started to complain, but fell silent at a menacing growl from the Qunari.

"Zeva," Morrigan said quietly, stepping close to the Warden, "I need to speak with you once we reach the campsite, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course," Zeva replied, concern in her eyes. "Is there a problem?"

"Possibly," the witch replied. "We will speak more later; away from the others, if you please."

Nodding, Zeva gathered her pack and the party left the ancient temple, carefully making their way down the mountainside.

o~~~~~~~~o

Zeva approached the isolated campsite, sitting down on an overturned log. "Is it a good time to speak, Morrigan?" she asked quietly.

"I have been reading Flemeth's grimoire," Morrigan began, gazing into the flames of the fire before her. "I assumed it would be a collection of her spells; ones that I could teach myself during our travels. In truth, the book is…. not what I expected."

"You seem disquieted," Zeva said. "What did you find?"

Sighing heavily, Morrigan turned to face the Warden. "I now know the secret to Flemeth's long life," she began, and Zeva saw a shadow pass over her features. "Ever since I was a child, I have heard stories of Flemeth's many daughters, yet I have never seen even one in the Wilds. The book explained their disappearances. It turns out that Flemeth herself is each one of these daughters."

"Excuse me?" Zeva asked, staring incredulously at her companion. "What has she done, Morrigan?"

"When Flemeth's body begins to weaken with age, she takes the body of her most recent daughter and makes it her own," Morrigan explained. "In essence, she possesses the form of the woman, thus extending her own life."

"Maker's breath," Zeva exclaimed, bringing her hand up to her throat. "So, she intends to do the same to you, I assume? Why would she ever agree to send you with us? Would that not be risky, especially given the task we are to perform?"

Snorting in disgust, the witch nodded. "I suppose I should be pleased with her faith in me," she spat, rising from the log and pacing before the fire. "I can only imagine she thinks I will become even stronger by travelling with you. Or 'tis possible that she wished to send me away so that she could prepare her ritual in peace. It doesn't matter, either way. I will not allow her to take my body as her new home."

"Of course we won't!" Zeva cried, standing up and placing her hand on Morrigan's arm. "We need to make a plan to stop her before she can harm you. Were you able to ascertain anything from the grimoire that would help us in this endeavor?"

When Morrigan didn't respond right away, Zeva glanced at her companion and saw the look of shock on her face. "What?" she asked, concern filling her tone. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," the witch answered, her voice lacking its usual strength. "Your reaction was simply not what I expected. I do have a plan, though I am not sure it is one you will be pleased with."

"Tell me what we need to do, and it will be done," Zeva said determinedly.

Gazing intently into the Warden's eyes, Morrigan spoke, her confidence returning. "Flemeth must die," she said bluntly.

"Of course," Zeva replied, nodding intently. "I suppose the real question is how to accomplish this task, isn't it?"

"You will have to go without me," Morrigan began, her eyes locked on her companion. "I cannot be sure that she would not be able to slip into my body, were I to accompany you. I know we have other missions ahead of us, but I would ask that this task be completed as soon as possible. I do not know how much time I have before she strikes, and I will not be able to rest until I know she has been dealt with."

Now Zeva was the one pacing before the fire. "You are right, of course," she said, her eyes glittering in the firelight. "We need to go to Orzammar to enlist the aid of the dwarves against the Blight. Once we have accomplished this, Flemeth will be our next priority. Does this plan suit you?" she asked, turning toward Morrigan and meeting her gaze.

A small smile played across Morrigan's lips as she looked at Zeva. "That would be acceptable, I think," she said quietly. "There is one final thing I must ask of you. I need Flemeth's true grimoire; the one that she keeps in her hut. I have a feeling that my mother will not truly die, even when you defeat her. It will take her time to recover and gain enough strength to attack me, but it will eventually happen. If I have that grimoire, I may be able to discover something that will keep her from succeeding in any future action against me."

"Certainly," Zeva agreed, smiling warmly at the witch. "I will make sure to recover the grimoire from the hut before returning to you. Now, if there is nothing more, I think I will retire for the night. The events of the last day are beginning to take their toll on me and I am completely exhausted."

"'Tis perfectly understandable, given the trials you were forced to undergo in the Gauntlet," Morrigan said softly. "Sleep well, Zeva, and I will see you in the morning."

Nodding, Zeva turned and began heading for her tent. She had only gone a few feet when she turned back, staring intently at the raven-haired mage. "I won't let Flemeth hurt you, Morrigan," she said, her eyes filled with determination. "Not ever." With a final smile, Zeva walked to her tent, lifting the flap and stepping in, letting it shut behind her.

Morrigan stared after her for several minutes; once again amazed at the young woman who had unwittingly become her only friend. And I will protect you, as well, she thought furiously, from all those who would keep you from your true potential – the Warden Commander most of all.

o~~~~~~~~o

Teagan was roused from sleep by a loud knocking at his bedroom door. "Bann Teagan!" the guard called desperately, "the Circle mage is asking that you come to Teyrn Cousland's room immediately!"

Teagan jumped from the bed, still half asleep, and quickly donned a pair of breeches and a cotton shirt. He opened the door and was met by Ser Frederick, one of Eamon's most distinguished guards. "What is happening, Frederick?"

"Well, Milord, it appears as though the Teyrn awoke from a nightmare calling his wife's name," the man replied respectfully. "The mage says he has been quite inconsolable since that time and he is certain that the Teyrn knows what befell the Couslands. He feels you may be able to calm him down."

"Of course," Teagan replied, dashing from his room and heading for the guest quarters. As he passed by the room Zeva had occupied, he paused; visions of she and the Warden Commander lying together coming unbidden to his mind. I will deal with you soon, you thieving bastard, he thought furiously. You will regret taking her from me.

Kinnon stepped into the hall as Teagan approached the door. He appeared disheveled, his robes askew. The Bann could hear Fergus through the door, demanding to be released from the bed. "Thank the Maker you came, Milord," the desperate mage said. "I was forced to restrain him for his own safety."

"Restrain him?" Teagan asked, aghast. "What in the Maker's name happened, Kinnon?"

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, the mage began. "The evening started off perfectly," he explained. "Teyrn Cousland ate his meal with you, as he has for the last several days, and then he drifted off to sleep. All appeared normal until an hour ago, when he suddenly sat bold upright in the bed, screaming the name 'Oriana'. That is the name of Teyrna Cousland, if I am not mistaken?"

"Yes, it was," Teagan replied, a heaviness filling his heart. He remembered Zeva telling him of finding the bodies in her father's study. He had known Oriana well, and her death was a true loss to the entire family; Fergus, most of all. She was a wonderful woman, and she and Fergus had been deeply in love. Sighing, he motioned for Kinnon to continue.

"I told the Teyrn that he needed to calm down; that he was perfectly safe and everything would be alright," the mage continued. "He looked at me, and I could see the deepest sorrow on his face; mixed with an intense fury. He said no one was safe and that nothing would ever be right again. The he tried rising from the bed, insisting that he had to find Rendon Howe and avenge his family."

The pair glanced at the door as once again, Fergus began shouting. "Let me up from this damnable bed!" he cried. "I will not be bound like some common prisoner!"

"Maker," Teagan mumbled. This was not going to be easy. "How did you manage to restrain him, if I may ask?"

"Well, Milord, I am a mage, you know," Kinnon said softly, a slight smile on his face. "However, even I cannot hold him forever. I think he needs you more than me right now."

Nodding, Teagan approached the door and grasped the handle. "Frederick," he called to the nearby knight, "would you please find Ser Perth and bring him here? I may need you both, should Teyrn Cousland continue this way."

"Of course, Bann Teagan," Frederick said and quickly turned, heading down the staircase.

"I would appreciate it if you remained close by, as well," Teagan said, turning back to Kinnon. "I may need your help to sedate him, should things become worse."

"Certainly," the mage answered, taking up a position near the door.

Teagan stepped inside the bedroom. Fergus lay back on the bed, seemingly unencumbered. Yet, he had no power to sit up, judging by the way his neck muscles strained as he attempted to rise. Magic never ceases to amaze, Teagan thought as he gazed at his friend.

"Teagan, thank the Maker you are here," Fergus said, his breathing heavy from his continued exertions. "Tell that mage to release me immediately! I must leave as soon as possible! I need to find Rendon Howe and rip the bastard's limbs from his body!"

"Calm down, Fergus, before you harm yourself further," Teagan said calmly. "You are in no shape to be going anywhere; not yet, at least."

"Teagan!" Fergus cried, and the Bann could now see the tears forming in his eyes. "You don't know what has happened! What that traitorous monster did to my family… to Oriana and Oren…. to Zeva and my parents…." His struggles ceased as he spoke; his voice quivering slightly.

Sitting in the chair next to the bed, Teagan reached out; placing a hand on the bereaved man's arm. "Actually, my friend, I do know what happened to your family – only too well," he said softly.

Fergus stared at him, his mouth falling open. "How?" he asked quietly. "What do you know, Teagan?"

Teagan paused before responding to Fergus' questions. He wanted to make sure he phrased his next statements in the most delicate way possible. "I know that Rendon Howe betrayed your father, Fergus," he began slowly. "He attacked your family's home with his men and wrested control of Highever from the Couslands. What I would know is how any of this knowledge came to you? Do you remember where you have been?"

"I still do not have a complete memory of the time after Ostagar," Fergus began, shaking his head. "I remember being taken from the battlefield in the Wilds by a group of Chasind. The memories of that time are unclear; though I do remember being tended to by an old woman. Her face, like so many other details of that time, has escaped my mind. I remember being told that the darkspawn had won the battle at Ostagar, and any attempt to return there would be futile. Therefore, once I was strong enough, I began the journey home. I planned on reuniting with my father and travelling with him to Denerim to offer our aid against the Blight. But when I reached Highever…." His face fell to his chest, and Teagan squeezed his arm affectionately as he saw the tears begin to flow.

"Teagan, Howe's soldiers were everywhere," Fergus continued, raising his head to meet the Bann's gaze. "Before I could reach the castle, I was stopped by a local merchant who knew my family. He took me to his home and hid me; telling me that I would be killed on sight if my identity was discovered. He told me that Howe betrayed my father. His men were not unintentionally delayed. They attacked our home once I had left with our soldiers. Against his advice, I disguised myself and approached the castle at night. Teagan, their bodies – my father, mother, Oriana, even my son – they were on display before the gates."

At this declaration, Fergus brought his hands up to his face and began weeping uncontrollably. Teagan reached toward him and pulled him into a tight hug; realizing as he did that the magical restraints were now gone. Glancing back over his shoulder, he smiled gratefully at Kinnon, who was once again in the room, maintaining a respectful distance from the pair.

As Fergus' sobs subsided, he pulled away from Teagan, gazing sadly into his friend's eyes. "I am so sorry, Teagan," he began. "I could not find Zeva's body. I know how much you loved her, and I wish I could tell you more…"

Shaking his head, Teagan interrupted him. "Zeva is alive, Fergus," he said, smiling softly. "She is a Grey Warden now, and has been to this home several times in that capacity since the battle at Ostagar."

Fergus' jaw dropped open, and Teagan saw the joy that filled his friend's eyes. "Alive? Truly?" he asked quickly. "Where is she now, Teagan? I must find her! If Howe knows that she escaped…"

"Fergus, you must calm down," the Bann said, pushing the Teyrn back onto his pillows gently. "Let me tell you what I know. Zeva was in the castle when Howe's men attacked, along with a Grey Warden." As he mentioned Duncan, Teagan felt the fury rise once again in his heart. He took a deep breath to calm himself and continued. "According to Zeva, Howe offered her a 'deal' in order to save your family. If she would agree to become his mistress, he would allow them to live."

"That lecherous bastard!" Fergus cried, rising once more on the bed. "I knew there was something wrong with the way he looked at her! Father never saw it, but I did! Maker, Teagan, she agreed, didn't she?"

Nodding, Teagan once again placed a calming hand on Fergus' arm. "Yes, she did. You know Zeva; she would do anything to protect her family," he said, a smile crossing his face as he thought of his beautiful Warden. "Before Howe could defile her, however, she attacked him and escaped. Unfortunately, she arrived too late to save anyone else. She carries the guilt of that moment with her still, Fergus."

"Of course she does, though none of this was her doing," Fergus replied, his voice once again filled with sadness. "It is all Howe's fault. When I get my hands on that monster, I will kill him, Teagan. I swear it."

"I know, my friend," the Bann replied, "and Zeva will be beside you. Of that I have no doubt. In fact, she is currently on a mission to save Eamon's life." Over the next several hours, he chronicled the tale of the nightmares in Redcliffe and Zeva's part in saving so many innocents. He told Fergus of the battle at the Circle, at least the parts he was aware of, and explained the journey Zeva was now on.

"My Zee Zee," Fergus said when Teagan's story was concluded. "I knew she would do amazing things with her life." Seeing the adoration in the Bann's eyes, Fergus chuckled softly. "And what of the two of you, Teagan?" he asked. "With as often as she visits here, I can only assume things have progressed between you?"

Teagan felt the tears sting his eyes, and saw the immediate concern on Fergus' face. "Our relationship is… complicated, Fergus," he began carefully. "You know that I love Zeva with all my heart, and I am certain she feels the same. However, there is another man involved who seems to be using his power over her to take advantage of her weakened emotional state. Let me explain…"

With that, Teagan began his tale of the 'insidious' Warden Commander Duncan….

o~~~~~~~~o

Zeva stepped from her tent, smiling as she approached Alistair and Leliana. The duo was arguing over breakfast preparation. They ceased their bickering, turning toward her as she approached.

"You know, Nan used to tell me that there should be only one chef in the kitchen, or the meal will be ruined," she said, chuckling at the frustrated pair. "So, here is my suggestion. One of you can be in charge of breakfast, and the other will control dinner. What say you both?"

Before they could respond, Zeva heard a soft voice purr over her shoulder. "Always the peacekeeper, aren't you, my beautiful Warden?" Zevran said, his breath caressing the side of her face. Zeva tried to ignore the warm smell of spice that reached her nostrils and turned to face the assassin, moving a few steps away from him. Ever since the final trial of the Gauntlet, Zeva knew the Antivan had been watching her, and his gaze had a greater effect on her than she was comfortable with.

Wishing to regain control of the situation, she smiled warmly at him, placing her hands on her hips. "And you," she exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at the surprised elf, "had best get your bow, as we have meat to catch."

"That won't be necessary, Zeva," Duncan said, stepping up to the group. In his arms were several plump rabbits. Sten followed closely behind him, a deer slung over his shoulder. "We have procured enough meat for the journey to Orzammar."

"I see that," she said happily, moving forward to take the hares from him; passing them to Zevran. "I wondered where you had gotten off to this morning."

"Had I known you were awake, I would have waited longer to start out," Duncan said, pulling Zeva to him and kissing her hungrily. As their lips parted, the Commander gazed into her eyes. "As it was, I knew you would wish to hunt this morning, and I thought I would save you the trouble."

Sneering at Duncan, Zevran spoke. "How very considerate of you, Commander," he said, sarcasm filling his voice. "Completing a task that is normally left to the Warden and myself. I see no ulterior motives there."

Frustrated at the constant sniping between the two men, Sten snorted, glaring at the group. "Come, elf, we have provisions to prepare," he said, turning and stomping away. Zevran looked at Zeva, and the two burst into bright smiles.

"He is such a charmer, isn't he?" the assassin said, rolling his eyes as he strolled away.

o~~~~~~~~o

Leliana and Zeva took over breakfast preparation, while Alistair left with Duncan to finish disassembling the campsite.

"Zeva," the bard said quietly as they worked, "would you mind if I asked you a personal question?"

"Of course not," Zeva responded, cutting the fruit for their meal.

The bard took a deep breath, hoping she wasn't entering into unwelcome territory. "It hasn't escaped my notice that something happened in the temple while you were searching for the Ashes," she began. "Something that has made the tension grow between Duncan and Zevran. I hate seeing you caught in the middle of their fight. Would you mind telling me what it is?"

Zeva sighed and placed down her knife, turning to face Leliana. "It wasn't just one thing, I am afraid," she explained. "I told you about the Guardian, right? Well, I wasn't the only one he questioned. He started to question Zevran about certain events in his past and I stopped his interrogation; rather violently, I might add. I think Duncan may have taken it wrong."

"Ahhh," the bard said, nodding her head slowly. "He thinks you are too protective of our Antivan, then?"

"Yes," Zeva admitted, "but Duncan doesn't know what I saw in the Circle, Leli. I know what the Guardian was preparing to say, at least some of it, and I had no intention of allowing him to bring up such painful memories in front of everyone. It would have been wrong."

"Your experience in the Circle really changed you, didn't it, Zeva?" Leliana asked, her own curiosity piqued. "I am sorry you were forced to endure such pain. But enough about that particular past. You said there were several things that happened during the Gauntlet?"

Zeva smiled softly at the bard. "Oh, yes, there was one more thing," she said. "The final test required us to remove all of our clothing and walk through fire. We were to cleanse ourselves as Andraste had been cleansed in the fire that killed her."

Leliana's eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open slightly. "Oh, my!" she said. "Well, that would explain several things; not the least of which is why Alistair turns bright red every time he looks your way. I have no doubt you nearly melted his armor, my dear, given his rather 'sheltered' upbringing."

The women laughed heartily for a moment, attracting the attention of the rest of the camp. As their giggling died down, Leliana continued. "That would also explain the tension between your two overprotective men, would it not?" she asked, flicking her gaze between Zevran and Duncan. "I am sure the Warden Commander was none too pleased to have you remove your clothing in front of Zevran?"

"That is putting it lightly," Zeva said, scowling. "They almost came to blows. I love Duncan, Leli, you know that. However, I will not be locked away like some Chantry sister, no offense. Zevran is important to me and I will not change the way I treat him. Not for anyone."

"I know, Zeva," Leliana said, her eyes filled with understanding. "You are dedicated to those you care about, and Zevran has somehow managed to take an exalted place in your heart. Just remember that Duncan loves you more than anyone; and he will only stand for so much interference before he is forced to act."

The Warden reached forward and grasped Leliana's hand in her own, squeezing it gently. "What would I do without you, Leli?" she asked. "I appreciate you concern; truly I do. I will try to insure that Duncan never has reason to act, but I cannot change who I am."

"That should be good enough, I think," the bard acknowledged, and the two women returned to their meal preparation in companionable silence.

o~~~~~~~~o

"Zeva," Alistair began sheepishly as the companions sat around, eating breakfast, "I know we need to go to Orzammar to enlist the aid of the dwarves, but now that we have the Ashes.."

"You think we should go back to Redcliffe," Zeva interrupted, smiling at him. "I could not agree with you more."

Duncan turned to her, a look of shock on his face. "Zeva," he said, "I thought we had discussed this. We are so close to Orzammar that it doesn't make sense to go back now."

"I agree with that, as well," the Warden replied, and both men stared at her in confusion. "Oh, come on, you two! We have been here before!"

"I am not leaving you again, Zeva," Duncan said determinedly. "So if you are even thinking about splitting this party…." He stopped as she placed a hand on his thigh, caressing him gently.

"I have no intention of letting you go anywhere," she said softly, and Duncan felt a near uncontrollable rush of desire at her tone. "However, Alistair has a point. Arl Eamon cannot be kept alive indefinitely; even with aid from the Circle. We must get the Ashes back to him as soon as possible. Ali, I think you should lead a team back to Redcliffe with the Ashes. I know you will want to be there when he wakes up."

Alistair met her gaze, smiling brightly. "Thank you, Zeva," he said quietly. "There should be a Warden with each party, anyway."

"Sten, I think you should accompany Alistair to Redcliffe," Zeva added, turning to the Qunari. "After all, the further south you go, the closer the Archdemon is, right?" Though he only nodded in response, Zeva was almost sure she saw a small smile break the corners of his mouth.

"I'll go back to Redcliffe, as well," Leliana spoke up. "I would like to be there to see Andraste's Ashes used, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Duncan said, smiling kindly at her. "That leaves the mages. We should probably have one with each group, to be safe. And Brother Genitivi will need help until he can be delivered to a caravan bound for Denerim."

Morrigan looked up from her grimoire and stared pointedly at Zeva. "I will go to Redcliffe," she said, and more than one member of the party stared at her in disbelief. "What?" she added, looking around at her companions. "I have no desire to entomb myself with drunken dwarves miles beneath the ground. I shall leave that to the preachy Circle marm; it seems more her style."

Wynne glared hatefully but the witch, but nodded her assent. "I would be pleased to accompany you to Orzammar, Zeva," she said. "The dwarves have always fascinated me; their lack of magical ability is of great interest to the Circle."

"See?" Morrigan said, rolling her eyes, "I just knew she would be thrilled. Try not to lose her in a tunnel somewhere. Your Maker knows she doesn't have much time left, as it is."

"Morrigan!" Zeva exclaimed, trying her best not to laugh at the witch's joke. She found Wynne to be quite tedious, regardless of how much praise Duncan heaped onto her. The elderly mage had tried on numerous occasions to lecture to Zeva regarding her duties as a Warden, and she now avoided her whenever possible. Maybe some time travelling together would help to break the ice, but Zeva had her doubts.

Turning to Zevran, Zeva smiled softly. "I suppose I don't need to ask you where you will be travelling?" she asked, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Wherever you are, I shall be, my darling Zeva," he replied, winking at her. She heard the low growl coming from Duncan and ran her hand softly over his leg; feeling the muscles shiver under her fingertips. The complaint abruptly stopped and she glanced over at him, smiling at the desire she saw in his eyes. She would have to make sure to thank him properly later….

"We should get moving," Duncan said when he recovered his voice. He begrudgingly extricated himself from Zeva and rose from the ground, helping Alistair to fill Bodahn's cart with the supplies needed for the journey back to Redcliffe. They had one day's travel to reach the bottom of the mountain and then the party would once again be divided.

"Morrigan," Zeva called, motioning for the witch to follow her to a secluded area of the camp. "Do you think you will be alright until we can get back to Redcliffe?" she asked, concern evident on her face. "Surely Flemeth won't try anything this soon?"

Smiling warmly, Morrigan shook her head at the worried Warden. "No, Zeva," she began, "Flemeth sent me on this journey to strengthen my skills. I do not think that she will attempt to possess me at this early stage. Now, stop fretting over me. I should be the one concerned with you; after all, I am leaving you with the moronic Commander and that old woman. The assassin is the only one whose abilities I have any faith in at all, and he's tried to kill you before.

So," Morrigan continued, a mischievous smile on her face, "should I send Bann Teagan your regards?"

"Only if you follow them with a fireball," Zeva said, her face darkening at the mention of the Bann. She still had not forgiven him for his behavior the night before they left the castle, and she was secretly glad that Alistair would be the one taking the Ashes back. It would give her more time before she would be faced with him again.

Morrigan's laughter followed her across the camp, and Zeva knew that she would miss the company of the mage when they were forced to part the next morning. The others may not understand her, but it didn't matter to Zeva. She was sure that somewhere under that cold exterior, a true friend was hiding.

For her part, Morrigan had been honest with Zeva. She was concerned about sending her to Orzammar with only Wynne, Duncan and Zevran as company. However, she knew the assassin would watch the Warden, and no harm would befall her. Her own goals were simple; she needed to reach Redcliffe and see how the Teyrn was healing. After all, she had taken such care to make sure he arrived safely. She had no doubt that Teagan was currently spinning quite the tale about Duncan and Zeva, but it couldn't hurt to offer him a little aid in that particular area, now could it? Humming softly to herself, Morrigan joined the group as they ventured down the mountain, leaving Haven far behind.