The next morning, as Ana rested at the camp, Alistair began packing up while Morrigan was off doing Maker knows what. Wrapped in her cloak, Ana watches him. "I suppose I should thank you."

"For?" He asks, not turning around.

Her cheeks burn. "You said last night that you carried me for a mile and a half after while I was passed out. I imagine that wasn't easy so…thanks."
Alistair smiles knowing she doesn't see it. "Don't mention it.. I promised Duncan I would look after you and I am a man of my word." Setting the bedroll he just rolled up aside, he straightens with a sigh.

"So, I take it we're heading to Lothering now." Ana asks. The ache in her head was still prominent as she struggled to recall where she had heard about the place.

"Yes." He replies, not looking away from his task. "It'll take a few days but perhaps we can appeal to the chantry for food and shelter while we come up with a plan."

Ana's brows draw together. "I thought we had a plan? You said you wanted us to go to Redcliffe and speak with Arl Eamon."

He pauses, leaning back on his heels with a sigh. "It was only a suggestion since we'll need to go through Redcliffe already to speak with the mages."

At that moment, Morrigan chooses to return. "Have you two finished?" She asks, her annoyance evident. "I have scouted the road ahead and it seems safe enough."

Alistair turns to her. "The Imperial Highway seems like our best option. It's often patrolled and there's a good chance we'll be able to trade with any caravans we pass along the way."

Morrigan's brow raises. "And what do you suggest we trade? You have already deemed all goods we have taken as "stolen goods"."

Alistair's cheeks redden. "I refuse to sell any items that may have belonged to anybody personally like jewelry or clothing. Everyday items that fetch a price will be fine."

Morrigan folds her arms over her chest with an amused expression. "And exactly how much do you expect to get for these 'everyday items'? If they are normal items they would have no additional value, correct?"

Shouldering his pack, he shoots her a glare. "Let's just get going."

Denerim

A curious buzz amassed in the throne room as Anora stood on the balcony in front of the two throne behind her. With the arrival of her father came the news of her husband's demise.

Cailan was a fool, there's no denying that. With his constant seeking for glory putting him in harm's way, whether it be with a stubborn stag or a noblewoman's angry husband, she knew that it would eventually lead to his downfall. Yet, even with his reckless attitude toward ruling his country, she felt the pull of grief. Their marriage was hardly an easy one yet despite their constant arguments and disagreements, she was going to miss him. Much like his father, he was always the charmer when they were growing up and always knew what to say when she was in a bad mood to make her crack a smile or laugh.

"...and I expect each of you to supply these men. We must rebuild what was lost at Ostagar, and quickly."

Pulled from her thoughts, her gaze falls on her father as he addresses the gathered nobles. Despite her objections to allowing him to be the one to break the news to the council, she relented when she knew that he wouldn't listen to her no matter what.

"There are those who would take advantage of our weakened state if we let them. We must defeat this darkspawn incursion, but we must do so sensibly and without hesitation."

As he says this, the mood of the crowd seemed to change as whispers rippled outwards.
"Your lordship, if I might speak?"

All eyes turn to look as Cailan's uncle, Bann Teagan steps forward.

"Go on." Loghain gruffly replies.

"You have named yourself Queen Anora's regent, and claim we must unite under your banner for our own good…"

Loghain nods. "That's right."

"But what of the army lost at Ostagar? Your withdrawal was most...fortuitous."

Anora keeps a straight face but feels panic arising inside as accusatory and dismayed whispers emerge from the crowd. Loghain sneers down at the Bann.

"Everything I have done has been to secure Ferelden's independence." The old General says, raising his chin. "I have not shirked my duty to the throne, and neither will any of you!"

"Traitor!" A man calls from the far back, making him grimace.

"The bannorn will not bow to you simply because you demand it!" Teagan asserts. "You of all people should know that in Ferelden, we no not bow to those who demand it but to those who earn it." More insulting shouts as Loghain sneers.

"Understand this: I will brook no threat to this nation… from you or anyone!" As he says this, Loghain motions to his entourage and they stomp away in a huff, leaving ANora to face the outcries and shouts of the nobles. She quickly steps up to the railing and holds her hands up.

"Now, now! Settle down!" She says. Teagan sneers at Loghain's sudden exit and begins to walk away himself when Anora stops him. "Bann Teagan, please"

He stops and turns to face her. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but your father risks civil war. If Eamon were here…" He begins, only to stop as he winces.

"Bann Teagan, my father is doing what is best."

"For whom? Himself or Ferelden?" Teagan shoots back. "Did he do what was best for your husband, your Majesty?"

Anora opens her mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Teagan snorts.

"Exactly." With a motion, he and a fair amount of his other nobles start toward the exit. Anora watches them, frowning.

Lothering

After a little less than a week of traveling, Ana and Alistair draw nearer to the town of Lothering. Tired and on edge, they walk a few feet away from one another in silence. As she walks along the worn yet sturdy raised highway that cuts through the Ferelden countryside, Ana looks out at the small farms spreading out from the town, most likely unaware of the dangers rising like a wave around them. Did they know that their king was dead? Of Loghain's betrayal? Somehow she doubted it. Alistair calls to her and she ignores him, continuing on.

Rolling his eyes, he jogs up to her and touches her arm which she immediately pulls away with a glare. "What?" She hisses, coming to a stop in order to face him.

He motions with his chin to the small, yet intimidating group of men lounging around, surrounded by half broken crates, bedrolls and a chest or two. Two caravan wagons sit end to end, blocking the path leading away from the town. One of the men says something earning laughs from their companions. "We've got company."

Ana turns to looks before shrugging. "Caravans? So what?" She moves to continue and he touches her arm to stop her. "Stop. Don't touch me."

"Those are not caravans." He hisses. "Look at the emblem on their armor."

Squinting, she notices the crimson mabaris of House Theirin on one of the men's' surcoats and her brows furrow. "They're from the King's army."

Gaining notice of their approaching guests, the men motion toward each other and they slowly rise and turn to face them.

"They've got to be deserters." Alistair says quietly. "Their uniforms are far too new to have fought at Ostagar." He places his hand on his sword, preparing for the worst. "Get behind me."

Fear courses through her as she does as she's told. With Alistair ahead of her, they slowly make their way over to the men. A slight breeze picks up and Ana catches the scent of decay, a smell that was all too familiar from their time at Ostagar. She looks around until she notices the body of a Templar leaning against the railing of the highway nearby.

"Wake up, gentlemen." A man in House Theirin armor calls to his companions as they approach. He grins at them. "More travelers to attend to." Immediately, his eyes seek out Ana with a lustful gaze before moving to Alistair. "You! You must be the leader."

Alistair puts his arm out protectively as Ana turns to find Morrigan standing beside her. The group of men behind the main one leer as they look over the two women with the exception of a stocky one off to the side. His gaze moves over their blue and grey armor. He nudges his leader. "Err ... boss? They don't look much like them others." He mutters quietly. "Uh… maybe we should let these ones pass…"
"Quiet, Gendrick." The man hisses back before turning a suave grin on toward the others. "Greetings travelers!" He greets them cheerfully.

Alistair remains stone faced. "So this is what happens to a man once he loses all honor and deserts his king during a Blight." He says, his cold demeanor cracking for a moment. "He becomes a highwayman and preys on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose."

"So they're robbing us?" Ana asks, wincing as one of the more disgusting men licks his lips and making kissing noises toward her.

"They are fools to get in our way." Morrigan states, her golden eyes bright with annoyance. "We should teach them a lesson."

The man puts his hands up in feigned surrender. "Now, now! Is that any way to greet somebody?" He asks. He tsks and looks back at his men with a smirk. "Ten silvers and we'll let you pass."

"What?" Ana exclaims from Behind her brother-warden. "That's ridiculous!"

"So you're toll collectors then?" Alistair asks with disgust.
"Why, of course!" The man says. He motions behind him. "It's for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway! As I'm sure you can see, it's a bit of a mess, isn't it?"

"Funny. I had no idea the royal army fixed roads." Alistair says, sardonically. "I guess you're really branching out, what with the Blight and all."

The nervous looking man begins to shift from one foot to the other. "I'm telling you, Boss." He mutters. "Look! All three of them are armed!"

The leader rolls his eyes but his grin remains in tact, if not a bit tensed. "I see that, Gendrick. However, armed or no, a toll is a toll - all must pay."

"Even Grey Wardens?" Ana asks.

The nervous one's eyes widen. "Did she say they're Grey Wardens?" He mutters as the group grows restless. "Thems the ones that killed the King!"

"What?" Alistair exclaims, stepping forward. "We did no such thing!"

"That's not what Teyrn Loghain says." The leader smirks. He crosses his arms over his chest. "In fact, he stated that the Grey Wardens are traitors to Ferelden! I believe he put quite a bounty out for you if you're found."

"Loghain is a liar!" Ana exclaims.

The man shrugs. "Perhaps but it's your word against his and his word promises coin." He motions to his group and they all unsheath their weapons. "Now it brings up the question - Will we be turning you in dead or alive? We'll leave that up to you."

Removing his shield from his back, Alistair glares at the men. "How about neither? You don't have to do this."

"I'm afraid we do. Men! Attack!"

As the men on each side lunge at them, Morrigan slams her staff into the ground and a wave of energy shoots outwards, throwing them and an unaware Ana backwards. The leader and his companion manage to remain upright and, after a moment to collect themselves, rush Alistair. With practiced finesse, he swings his shield outward to hit the companion while simultaneously hitting the leader square in the jaw with the pommel of his sword. Both stagger back which allows him to thrust his sword upwards, his blade slicing through the worn material of Gendrick's armor. Falling open, the shallow gash from navel to neck is exposed. Genrick looks down, his eyes widening before he lets out a war cry as he charges Alistair once more. As the young warden barely manages to deflect each strike, the leader smirks and strides toward Ana.

Sword in hand, she backs up and deflects the first couple effortless strikes before her sword is hit out of her hands. It flies a couple feet across the cobblestone and he smirks. He barely makes it a few feet from her before smoke rises from around him. Ana's brows furrow as the leaders stops to look around, moments before green flames engulf him. His screams echo through the space as Alistair runs Gendrick through with his sword. He lies the man down and removes his sword from Gendrick's gut and turns, wrinkling his nose at the stench of burned flesh.

"Maker's breath…" He mutters, signing himself. Slinging her staff across her back, Morrigan casually steps over the charred corpse of the leader and immediately begins to rifle through the crates. Alistair gives her a cautious glance before striding up to Ana. "Are you all right?" He asks, frowning.

Snapping out of her shock she gives him a tight nod and retrieves her sword. "I'm fine." She mutters, sheathing it.

Before Alistair can respond, Morrigan strides up, placing something in her pack.

"The threat has been successfully dealt with. Shall we continue?"

Alistair's eyes immediately move to her pack. "What did you take?"

"If you must know, vials, coin and other necessities; All things that they no longer have use of."

"How much coin?" Ana asks.

"We can't keep it." Alistair says, earning a groan and eye roll from his companions. "These men taxed innocent people escaping the Blight. That money belongs to them!"

"And how do expect us to return it, hm?" Ana snaps. "Do you think they kept a log of how much they took from whom?"

"No…" Alistair begins.

"Exactly. This may have belonged to others but right now, we need it."

Seeing no point in arguing, Alistair sighs and starts down the ramp leading down toward the nearby town with Morrigan in tow. Ana begins to follow until her eyes fall on the fallen templar. Could he have been one of the templars who guarded the mages at Ostagar? Could he have been injured in the battle and survived, only to succumb to his wounds here on the highway?

A frown tugs at the corners of her lips. Walking over, she kneels beside the armored body. Saying a silent prayer for him, she begins to stand back up but very idea of looting the templar's corpse seemed distasteful but perhaps he had something on him to make a suitable memorial? She bites her lip and looks out at the ramp where the others disappeared.

"Well, There it is. Lothering; Pretty as a picture." Alistair sighs, pausing at the platform flanked by stairs leading down. He motions up out in the distance where a village of tents are set up outside the palisade walls. "I think first things first, we should set up camp with the others and go from there. What do you think?" He turns, his brows furrowing to find only an unimpressed Morrigan. "Where's Ana?"

Looking up at from her nails she was examining, she shrugs. "Have you lost your fellow warden already?"

He glares at her but says nothing as he trudges back up to the Imperial Highway where he finds his sister-warden huddled over the body of the fallen templar. "Ana."

Quickly stuffing the letter and locket she was examining in her pack, Ana rises and turns to face him. "What?" She asks, a little moodier than she had intended.

Alistair's eyes move down toward the templar. "What were you doing?"

"I was praying for him." She says, brushing past him. "It was the least I could do."

As she descends down the ramp, Alistair once more looks at the body before following her.

They approach the refugee encampment and halt, taking in the scene. Children play nearby as men and women go about their business chopping wood, fetching water and other everyday tasks.

"It's just a guess but I'm thinking everyone in Lothering is aware of the approaching darkspawn horde." Alistair remarks, motioning toward tents. "We should set up camp before it gets too late. We still need to make a plan for our next move."

"A grand idea." Morrigan smirks from beside him. He rolls his eyes and turns to her.

"Let me guess; You have a better idea?"

She shrugs. "No. I'm just surprised."

"About what?"

"That you have seemed to rejoin us." She smirks. "If I recall correctly, you spent most of the journey thus far moping about. I'm surprised to see you so determined." She shrugs. "Seems like falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble."

Alistair is taken aback yet before he can respond, Ana rounds on her. "Shut up!" She exclaims, her fists clenched at her sides. "Perhaps you should hold your tongue about matters you clearly know nothing about!"

Morrigan raises a brow in surprise. "It seems as though I've struck a nerve." She says, her smirk returning.

Tears threaten to fall but Ana manages to hold them at bay. "Death and grief is not something to mock. Perhaps you have never experienced losing somebody you cared for but we have."

Alistair nods. "Exactly! What would you do if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" She retorts.

Ana's brow furrows as Alistair backs up slightly. "Right… very creepy. Forget I asked."

"Fuck you." Ana mutters. "At least your family is still alive."

She starts off toward village and Alistair crosses his arms. "And I thought I had terrible people skills." He mutters. "I take it this is the part we discover how you've never had a friend in your entire life."

Morrigan shoots him a glare. "I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, in your case, desiring to be intelligent doesn't make it so."

"Kind of like in your case, desiring to have a heart doesn't make it so." He shoots back, taking off after Ana before she can respond.