DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.

SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

A SONG IN THE STILLNESS

Chapter 9: Why Does That Not Surprise Me?

9:32 Dragon, Wintermarch === The Vigil

The day after the battle, Garavel joined Varel, Liam, Colum, and Taina in a small room off the main hall of Vigil's Keep. "I sent the bird to Amaranthine City," he announced, "but we've heard nothing from them."

"The City will hold," Liam said, looking to Varel, "but should we send a relief column? Do we have the troops to spare? It would have to be a strong force, in case it met with retreating 'spawn. I can spare several wardens."

Varel sat back in his chair, as Taina poked Garavel and whispered that he should keep quiet. The Captain glared at her, but closed his mouth, pressing his lips together. He knew her lover defended the City, so she had a special interest in its survival, just as he did. The both waited for Varel's response. The Seneschal brought both palms to his face and massaged his temples. Finally, he spoke. "It worries me that we've heard nothing from the Arl, but these darkspawn might be smart enough to shoot the birds down - both ours and any coming from the City." He leaned forward and stared at the map spread out on the table in front of him. "There are forest tracks that parallel the Pilgrim's Path to the west. Can we send our troops along those tracks and avoid any ambushes on the main road?"

Garavel nodded slowly. "We can, but we'll need to keep skirmishers and scouts out to ensure no darkspawn surprise us. And, while I appreciate your wardens, Liam, they also attract the 'spawn, do they not?"

Sighing, Liam acknowledged the risk.

"We'll scout," Taina said. "One warden and one soldier, with the soldier retreating back to the main body if darkspawn do attack. If it's just a few, we can handle them and continue. If not, we can hold them off and let your troops prepare or retreat. They won't sense you."

"Keep the wardens away from the main body. That might work," Garavel agreed and looked at Varel.

"Take a third of our troops, Garavel." Varel turned towards Liam. "Who will you send, Liam?"

"Taina will lead, but I'll go along too."

"As will I," Colum said. "And my two Nevarrans. We have the best taint sense, having been wardens the longest." He held up his hand as he saw Taina about to speak. "I'm fully recovered, Warden Taina. I've been sparring every day and thrashing every opponent. We three will scout to the north and east, while you and Liam take the west and south."

"There'll be three of us as well, Colum," Liam said. "We'll bring Padar along."

Varel stood. "Garavel, take what supplies you need and be ready to leave before dawn tomorrow. You know the road from the Vigil, so the dark won't hinder you and you'll have daylight once you reach the forest track. Even following forest paths, you should arrive in Amaranthine by nightfall tomorrow, should nothing ill befall you en route."

Garavel snorted. "That's a big should, Seneschal. Let's hope we attract no monsters and find them gone from the City when we arrive."

9:32 Dragon, Wintermarch === Amaranthine City

The forest thinned out as the column of horse troopers approached Amaranthine City on a path that skirted the edge of the Feravel Plain. Smoke curled upwards from burned out farmholds to the west, while cattle, pigs, and chickens, those that had not burned in their enclosures, ran free. The scouts moved closer to the main column, their usefulness at an end. Every trooper could see the surrounding countryside and no darkspawn appeared, but ahead, more smoke smudged the horizon.

Colum and Liam joined Garavel at the head of the column.

"Still some darkspawn ahead, but I sense more to our west. I'd guess the City held and the 'spawn left the city for easier pickings," Colum said. "Small bands, nothing very large, but at least half a dozen of them roam across the Plains."

Garavel looked back at the fifty troops following them. "Let's go to the city first. I want to know what the Arl wants us to do, if he even knows we're coming. Varel sent a bird, but…." He shrugged, acknowledging that it might not have gotten through. "We'll fight any 'spawn we meet, but I'm not splitting up our troop into smaller patrols when we don't know what's out there."

"We know there's darkspawn-" Colum began.

"-we don't know how many or what Arl Howe needs in the City."

"Let me take my wardens and six of your troops," Colum countered. "These talkers, the Disciples, there aren't that many of them. I doubt one leads the attacks in the Plains, so the darkspawn patrols won't be organized. We can take them one-by-one."

"It's not a bad idea," Liam agreed. "Garavel, what do you think?"

The Amaranthine captain frowned, and then waved to one of his sergeants. "Eduard, take five troops and go with the wardens. You'll find and destroy any small darkspawn patrols you find under Warden Colum's command. He'll know where they are and how many you'll face. See how many farmers and farms you can save, and gather up any animals. Leave any survivors in charge of what you find. We'll need the livestock and crops to feed Ferelden."

Liam, Taina, and Padar remained with Garavel as the main column continued towards the smoke on the horizon. The wardens sensed darkspawn around the city, but, as Liam relayed to Garavel and the others, not the army he expected. With so few before them they decided to approach the main gate and hope to fight through. We need to know if they killed scores of darkspawn or if the horde retreated to attack elsewhere. As if reading his mind, Garavel ordered the troop, riding three abreast, to increase its pace to a canter through the now forested track that merged with the Pilgrim's Path a half mile or so from Amaranthine City.

Cresting a hill on the Pilgrim's Path, before its final approach, Garavel signaled a halt. Amaranthine lay before them, darkspawn shooting arrows over the wall and milling about below the battlements, trying and failing to raise ladders. Smoke swirled around the monsters, periodically obscuring them and the fighters on the wall defending the city. Beyond the wall, much of Amaranthine burned.

"Thatched roofing," Garavel muttered. Seeing Liam's questioning look, he elaborated. "The Orlesians, supported by Arl Tarleton Howe, built this city during the Occupation and they wanted it done quickly and cheaply. Thatch is readily available in the marshes and along the coast. The City survived the Occupation, but no one replaced the thatch. As you see, it burns well."

They watched as more flaming arrows flew over the wall.

"Let's hope the citizens fled to the chantry or the docks," Liam said.

The Chantry of Our Lady Redeemer stood above the city, its tile roof intact. Figures appeared through the smoke shrouding the Chantry's great plaza. Arrows arced onto the darkspawn archers from behind its low walls. From the City walls, other soldiers fought off the few darkspawn who attempted to raise ladders against the wall or shot arrows at the darkspawn archers.

Garavel turned to his lieutenant and sergeants. "At a trot, cut them down. There can't be more than three score." He looked at Liam. "The darkspawn don't ride horses, do they?"

Liam shook his head no.

"Good. The defenders will know we come to relieve them, then." Giving his sergeants time to ride down the line of troops, he raised his arm, circled it, and pointed forward. The troops, now five abreast, began at a walk but soon broke into a trot. As the road widened, groups of five spread out to broaden the attack, the pounding of hooves masked by the roar of the fires. The darkspawn, screeching and squealing amidst the smoke and ash, noticed the approaching troopers too late. Short cavalry swords slashed at throats and spears plunged into torsos as the Vigil's soldiers, with their warden allies, broke through the line of archers and attacked the hurlocks and genlocks at the base of the wall. A cheer went up from the defenders above them.

Taina, less comfortable on horseback than the others, jumped off near a fallen ogre and, with her back to the monster, began attacking the nearest archers. Liam joined her, alternating healing and fire. Behind them the great gate opened and Amaranthine Guard poured out, along with Daveth, leading the wardens Liam had left with Nate. The remaining darkspawn fell.

x==========x

The City Guard, Amaranthine troops, and wardens spent the night putting out fires, aided by a long line of citizens, who passed water buckets from the harbor into the city, while wagons trundled in and out of the harbor gate with barrels full of sea water to aid the effort. By morning, although small fires still smoldered, and some flared up when the wind blew sparks onto a patch of dry material, most of the large conflagrations had been extinguished. Slowly householders returned to assess what was left of their homes and businesses, while carters continued to unload barrels of sea water around the City in case of flare ups.

Built on a rise above the main town, the stone Guard House with its tile roof had survived the flames that enveloped the shops and houses of the lower city. Our Lady stood high above the town, providing refuge for its citizens, as did the smoke damaged - but otherwise intact - Crown and Lion Inn. The wall stood, continuing to protect the City, and the harbor and docks remained usable. Any ships had anchored offshore during the battle, standing ready to evacuate citizens, had it become necessary.

Nate seemed to appear everywhere as the morning wore on. Persuading the innkeeper at the Crown and Lion to use his kitchens to provide meals, checking on food and healing supplies at the Chantry, ensuring the Guard continued patrolling the walls, inspecting the underground tunnels for incursions, and asking ships' captains to ferry supplies from Higheverport, Ostwick, and Markham, where his cousin Frederick had retaken his family's estate and leadership seat on the ruling Council. Delilah and Albert, each accompanied by a warden and two guards, surveyed the damage to shops and homes. Our Lady the Redeemer provided both a hospice and refuge. Chantry healers and a few mage healers cared for the wounded, the brothers' dormitory housed the men working on cleanup, the sisters' dormitory provided the same for women workers, and families filled the great nave. The Guard and wardens used the Guard House barracks and wall stations for sleep and meals. For once, the Alienage, tucked into a corner of the wall on the northeast side of the City, near the harbor and beyond the Chantry's great stonework, remained untouched by fire. Stripped of most of its inhabitants by Rendon Howe's slave trading, the small community of elves, led by their Hahren, offered refuge to human and dwarven women and children, while the human and dwarves' other family members fought the fires and, with the new day, began to clear rubble.

The Hahren joined Nate, Delilah, Constable Aidan, Garavel, Liam, Taina and Daveth at the Guard House for a mid-day meal. He held to his request that no human or dwarven men stay in the Alienage. Disparaging attitudes towards elves from the old Arl's time remained among both Guards and citizens. While he appreciated the young Arl's efforts, he also wanted to ensure his peoples' safety. Delilah agreed with him, but noted that the Guard now included elves. She suggested paired elven and human guards patrol the Alienage so that a few humans and dwarves at a time could visit their families, but not stay.

"I fear banning them entirely from their families will create resentments," Delilah said. "Letting in a few at a time during the day should alleviate that. Particularly when they see their wives and children well cared for by your people, Hahren."

The Hahren agreed to Delilah's plan and she assured him she would personally visit each day as well.

Once the immediate needs had been addressed, Nate, thinking ahead, began to outline his thoughts on rebuilding Amaranthine City. Liam and his wardens excused themselves to decide how they would proceed. The Messenger joined them. At some point they would have to find his master, but, for now, the Architect posed no immediate threat.

"He's using us to destroy his enemy," Taina protested, when Liam agreed to move against the Mother.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," the Messenger said, in his strange, guttural accent.

"He has a point," Daveth murmured. Taina gave him a side-eyed glare.

"How do we know they are enemies? We could attack this Mother and find the Architect attacking us."

"What alternative do you suggest, Taina?" Liam asked.

She fell silent for a time. "Prepare for treachery, I suppose. Attack the Mother, but watch our backs."

"Always good advice," Colum said. He looked at Liam. "Do we ask Nathaniel for troops?"

"No. This is a warden problem. We'll go in force, but only wardens. We'll leave a couple wardens here and two more at the Vigil, to provide warning if any darkspawn attack, but everyone else goes with us. Are you still with us, Colum?"

The Nevarran nodded.

"What about the wardens at Soldier's Peak?" Daveth asked.

"We're heading west. This place is in the mountains just to the east of the Peak. I asked Sigrun to lead five wardens to guard our backs while we're in these Wastes. The rest will stay at the Peak," Liam said. "Should the worst happen, they'll be all that's left. Colum, send word to your Warden Commander so he knows we could be wiped out. Nate can send word to the Regents." He stood. "Take two days to get ready. I've already sent a bird to the Vigil. Our brothers and sisters will join us by tomorrow night. We'll leave at dawn by galley for the Dragonbone Wastes. The boat can let us off on the coast to north and we'll march from there."

x==========x

The next evening a dirty, tired group of wardens arrived in Amaranthine City and marched into the Gatehouse quarters the other wardens had used since Daveth arrived weeks ago.

"Where's Justice?" Liam asked, seeing only Jowan, Anders, Denis and Fulke in the main bunk room.

Denis and Anders exchanged a look and Anders nodded his head towards Liam. Sighing, Denis spoke, "It seems Kristoff's body could no longer support Justice, so…well," he looked at Jowan.

Before he could continue Jowan stepped forward and spoke in Justice's voice. "The mage offered to join with me," Justice intoned. "I accepted."

"Join with you," Liam said slowly. "Jowan?"

"We're both here," Jowan's voice answered. "It's strange, but not unpleasant. I couldn't leave him…it, in that decaying body, Warden-Commander." The face relaxed into Jowan's more typical expression, eyes downcast, and he began fidgeting. "Anders couldn't fix it and you weren't there," he accused.

"You just let Justice take over your body?" Liam asked, rubbing his forehead. "Just like that?"

"We discussed it," Justice said. "The mage agreed."

"Right." Shaking his head slightly, Liam threw up his hands. Why does this not surprise me? Jowan. Always looking for an easy way to acquire more power. "No time to worry about it now, we have more pressing matters to address." Maker, I should have done more research on spirit possession with Morrigan and in the library at the Peak. He watched his wardens settle in. A spirit of Justice possessing a blood mage.

As if reading his mind, Anders murmured, "What can go wrong?" He continued, "I found nothing in the library at the Peak when I looked. Even Avernus had no idea how to separate him from a body and send Justice back." Sensing the question Liam had not asked, he added, "You had other concerns, as did Morrigan."

"I did ask Morrigan," Liam said, "when I told her about Justice. She hadn't heard of Spirit possession either, well beyond Wynne's Spirit of Faith. She said she would try to figure something out, but…as you said, we had other concerns. Nothing in the library?"

Anders shook his head. "Too much on demon possession, a little about allying with Spirits residing in the Fade, but not a Spirit possessing a body in this world or how to return it to the Fade. Then again, I'm not sure templars or Chantry folk would recognize or acknowledge a difference between a spirit and a demon. Returning a spirit to the Fade wouldn't be an option for them."

"What about…" Liam stopped. "Even Connor Guerrin's Desire demon remained in the Fade, which let Morrigan defeat it there. Justice is here."

"And once a demon possesses a person, it dies with what's left of the person. It may be the same for a spirit."

"Right…so we just watch him, for now." Liam saw Jowan curl up in the bed farthest from the rest of the group. "He's always been a little off, but now? A resentful, sullen mage joined with a Spirit of Justice."

"I'll watch him," Anders promised. "You worry about the rest of us. You…we can decide how to deal with him after we destroy this Mother and her brood. Jowan can still heal and he's a more powerful, or maybe a more focused, elemental mage now, so that will help in the battle." And maybe a powerful Spirit of Justice can serve our cause.

9:32 Dragon, Cloudreach === Kirkwall

Alistair slashed at the last mercenary. The man fell at his feet and he stepped back, only to feel hands push him away. He spun around and found Bethany Hawke glaring at him.

"You're a templar!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "You're spying. Wearing normal armor, joining us for Wicked Grace and Diamond Back. Why haven't you taken me in? Do you think I'll lead you to others?"

To her surprise, he smiled.

"Where's that sign when I need it," he muttered through the grin. He took a deep breath and the grin, which had softened his hard features, disappeared. "I'm not a templar, Bethany. As a child, I trained as a templar, but I left the Chantry and never took vows. I just have the skills. A wise mage I used to know told me I can use them because my mother was a mage. I have mana. Not much, but enough to allow me to perform without the lyrium most templars need."

"A mage? Your mother was an apostate?"

"More complicated, but close enough. She gave me up, so I didn't know her." At least, not then. He tilted his head. "I didn't smite you, in case you didn't notice."

"I did. I just thought-"

"-I missed? I don't miss. I can channel it. Just stay to my side or behind me, where you're most effective anyway." His mouth quirked, but the appealing grin did not reappear. "And don't hit me with a spell!"

"I don't-"

He almost grinned again. "-I know."

"Is there a problem, Beth?"

"No. I was just complementing Alun on his skills."

Rory Hawke looked from her sister to the newest member of her group of companions. The tall, muscular warrior certainly had skills. He used two blades, unlike Aveline with her shield or Fenris with his great sword. He had an agility, almost rogue-like, that Aveline lacked. She had seen him roll, duck and lunge as fluidly as she could. The moves explained the more flexible armor he wore over an unusual gambeson and, on these last two missions, he had showed he could use a bow.

With Aveline devoting her time to the Guards, most recently Hawke's team had consisted of Fenris, Varric, Bethany and Alun, and they had begun to perform as if their battle dances were choreographed. Alun, however, could always surprise. On one jaunt, he had picked up a bow, strapped on a full quiver, and shot at an approaching group of bandits. He killed all five before they could reach the heights above the trail where the team had stopped. I have good eyes, had been his explanation, and I learned to shoot as a child.

Fenris, still suspicious of the newcomer, had asked how he had even known the bandits were there.

"Good ears," Ser Alun had answered. "Didn't you hear them?"

Fenris had frowned. "I'm an elf," he had answered, "and yes, I had just heard the…you noticed me listening?"

Alun had shrugged, implying he had observed the elf's reactions and Fenris seemed satisfied.

"Do I have blood on my face? Or egg from breakfast?" Alun asked, staring back at Hawke.

"No, I was just thinking." Rory collected herself and waved towards the young man slumped against a boulder. "Let's collect anything useful from the Winters' camp. They won't be returning to Nevarra with it. Then we'll take Seamus back to his father."

"He's so…sad," Bethany said. "The Qunari, Rashaad, he really was Seamus' friend."

"You sound like that's an impossibility," Alistair said.

"Well, unless you want to join the Qun…."

"Qunari can befriend non-qunari. The Qun allows it under some circumstances."

"Have you had a Qunari friend, then? Or are you just an expert?" Bethany asked, an edge to her voice.

"I am not an expert, but I did have a qunari friend. During the Blight. The task his Arishok gave to him did not demand he kill me or convert me. I heard he returned to Seheron." His lips softened, almost into a smile. "With a mabari."

"A mabari?"

"He admired the mabari's dedication to duty and loyalty. Her mistress died."

"Her?"

"Female mabari fight too. Sten nursed her back to health and she bonded to him. Sometimes that happens. He'll take good care of her." He sheathed his swords and walked towards the far side of the camp, searching chests, tents and bodies as he went. When he finished, he approached Hawke. "Do you want me to scout ahead? Make sure there's no more of these Winters holed up on our way out?" He carried the bow he had taken from one of the archers.

"Please," Hawke said. "Meet us where this trail meets the main one." She watched the man walk up hill towards the coast path. He's more than he admits, but Varric says I can trust him.

"It's beautiful in its own way," Alun said aloud, standing on the cliff that overlooked the Waking Sea waiting for the others to join him.

A voice from behind him said, "Beauty?" He turned. Rory Hawke stood, one blade sheathed and the other still in her left hand. In her right hand, she held a bloody rag, which she wiped along the second blade.

"Alun has a point, Sis," Bethany said as she joined them. "When there aren't any Tal Vashoth or bandits or mercenaries attacking us, it is beautiful in its a way. A harsh beauty."

Hawke's eyes narrowed as she looked at her sister. "Let's get a move on," Hawke yelled. Time enough to talk to Bethany later. She glanced at Alun again. He did something to that Winters' mage before he ran him through. He's not a mage, so… what, a templar? She shook her head. Not if Beth is befriending him.

Bethany dropped back to walk with Alun. "You need to tell my sister about your skills. She'll notice and may not ask questions first."

He nodded and smiled his more customary tight-lipped grin. "She's protective."

"Too much so, sometimes."

"Varric knows which proves he can keep a secret."

"Until he puts it in one his books," Bethany said, lowering her voice to conspiratorial tones. "The Surreptitious Templar. He escaped from the Chantry, but took its deepest secrets when he left."

Alun did laugh then. "Maybe you should write. You wouldn't be far wrong either…about the deepest secrets. They don't like to lose templars."

x==========x

Varric knocked on Alun's door and pushed it open when he found it unlocked. "Planning on joining us for Wicked Grace tonight, Grey?" he yelled, as Alun spun around and took a defensive stance, blades in hand. Varric raised his own hands, palms up, "Whoa, just asking."

Alun narrowed his gaze at Varric's use of the nickname. The dwarf had begun calling him Grey some weeks earlier, around the time an old acquaintance of Varric's arrived in Kirkwall and took a room at the Hanged Man. The pirate from the Pearl in Denerim had arrived in Drakonis and spent a lot of time chatting with Varric. Alun had avoided Varric's table for a week after her arrival, but Isabela had noticed him sitting alone each night and drinking himself to sleep. He kept waiting for her to denounce him to the gathered drunks, but she had not. One night, when he was slumped over his mug of ale, she had come to sit with him.

"We all have our secrets," she said, and smiled. "Even dead men." Putting a finger under his chin, she pressed upward, until his eyes met hers. Even with the scruffy beard and scar, he remained an attractive young man. Emphasis on the man. This isn't a naïve boy anymore. "Bet you wouldn't blush if I sat on your lap tonight."

He stared back. "Dead men don't blush."

She laughed. "I suppose they don't. If you ever want some fun, no strings, I'm in the room across the hall from you. Even dead men need some…distraction." She ran a finger along his scar. "I'm sorry. I liked her. Sometimes…well, everyone needs a respite from mourning." She got up and returned to the bar, shouting for Corff to refill her cup before she joined Varric's table.

He liked the group around Varric. He could become friends with some, certainly Varric and Hawke, and he missed companionship, but, yet again, his entire past would be a secret from them, just at it had been at Dragon's Peak, with the wardens, and at the start of his travels with Liam. Lys had changed that, Lys and Kai and Zevran, who had known him and encouraged him to let the other companions know him too. For almost a year during the Blight he could be Alistair, with nothing to hide. Now, he had no life before emerging from the crate. In twenty-one years he had spent less than one being himself, with no secrets. That Alistair, the one with a lover, friends, a purpose, was the exception. Alun, with no past and no future, was the rule. He would not make the mistake of caring about friends or hoping for more again. He would serve, earn his keep, but stay invisible. He laughed to himself. Fortunately, I'm a quiet drunk. I won't give away my own secrets.

That night, after Isabela assured him of her discretion, he got up and joined Varric and his friends at their game of Wicked Grace. Rory and Bethany Hawke, who hoped their winnings would add to the funds they needed to join Bartrand Tethras' expedition; Fenris; Merrill, a Dalish elf whose name rang a bell, but he did not recall why; Aveline, the guard with no nickname; and Isabela, who Varric called Rivaini. Sometimes a Chantry brother friend of Hawke, called Sebastian, would sit in, but Alistair found him a bit too pious to befriend, as his nickname Choir-boy implied, despite his sympathy for the man's murdered family. Considering the nicknames, he decided his could be worse. It didn't reveal all that much and it didn't refer to his templar abilities. He did not want those skills brought to the attention of anyone in the Gallows.

Fortunately, Templars from the Gallows did not frequent the Hanged Man. So far, he had managed to avoid meeting Cullen Rutherford up close. On his one visit to the Gallows with Hawke, the bareheaded templars wandering the courtyard had surprised him. Searching the templars' faces, he found his one-time friend standing near the base of the grand stairway and hurried over to the arms vendor to avoid detection. He could not believe a man who served as Knight-Captain and second in command at the Gallows could be the man he had known at Dragon's Peak or before the rebellion in the Fereldan Circle. He recalled Cullen's hatred of mages after Uldred had imprisoned and tortured him. He could not trust the man in the Gallows as a friend. Better he avoids him entirely.

When he went to his room after cards and too much ale, he would sometimes notice the door across the hall standing open. He felt tempted at times, but never succumbed. He had gone to the Blooming Rose soon after his arrival, but found he felt just as empty and alone afterwards and he still had to walk back to Lowtown, which was better done sober. Have to fight off bandits most nights. Easier to drink the ale here and crawl up the steps just before I collapse on the tabletop. Most nights his timing worked and he made it to his bed, but sometimes Norah, the waitress, would wake him up as the sun rose and chase him upstairs.

Looking over at Varric, still standing in the doorway, he hoped no one would disrupt his plan to remain invisible. Given Varric's wide ranging intelligence network, what he knew of Alun's past at Soldier's Peak, and whatever hints Isabela had dropped, Alistair was quite sure Varric suspected his identity, but he believed the dwarf would keep the secret. Varric just could not resist letting Alistair know he knew, hence the nickname Grey. Alistair grinned. It put him in good company. All Varric's friends had nicknames…well, all except Rory Hawke and Aveline.

Sheathing his blades, he nodded at Varric. "Let me wash up and I'll join you."

x==========x

Hawke knocked on Alun's door and heard him yell, "It's open."

Entering, she surveyed the room, but did not see Alun. An opening to one side led to what she assumed was a sleeping alcove, while the large main room had been set up as a training space. Arms and armor hung from the wall or on stands. At the far end, beneath windows set high on the wall, a workbench provided a spot to repair armor, fletch arrows, and sharpen weapons. At one end, the long work table also held pots or ink and containers holding quills and brushes. Against the alcove wall, next to that part of the workbench, stood a scrivener's table, with its working surface angled up and facing towards the windows for maximum light. Next to the table a lectern stood, just above the height of the work surface, to hold the book from which the scrivener copied. A large candelabra provided another light source, rising from the floor between the scrivener's table and the lectern. A parchment, with a partially colored drawing lay on the work surface. Inspecting it, she realized it depicted her friends playing cards in the tavern below. He's quite good. She laughed to herself. I could almost label each with their nickname, given how he's shown them here. Fenris, or Broody, both glowered and looked petulant, while Sunshine, or Bethany, hid a smile, and Merrill, called Daisy, looked at Varric in confusion.

Walking towards the alcove, she saw, not a bed, but a large book case filled with books and figurines. Several maps hung on the walls. Not what I was expecting. She shook her head. Truly, I had no idea what to expect. He's literate. He draws. Those maps are not cheap ones. She walked over to the bookcase and reached out to touch a figurine.

"They were gifts to me when I was a child."

Hawke jumped at Alun's voice. He sat on the end of a bed mending a tunic and watching her, an amused glint in his hazel eyes and the hint of a grin softening his features.

She picked up the carved figure. "That's King Maric? And Queen Rowan?"

"Among others. Queen Moira too."

"Well either you really are a Fereldan or have some deeply twisted desire to be one."

Alun snorted. "Really Fereldan. I'm glad you came by. I wanted to talk to you, but I keep to myself, mostly-"

"-hadn't noticed."

"Mostly, but there are some things you should know if I'm to keep traveling with you." He waited, but Hawke said nothing. "I trained as a templar when I was young. Never took vows, but I still have the skills. I can smite. It comes in handy."

"That's what you did to the Winters' mage the other day?"

"I did. I'm not sure which is more effective, the smite or the surprise when it comes from someone not in templar armor."

Rory chuckled. "Did Bethany see?"

He nodded. "I can channel it, so it won't affect her unless she gets between me and the targeted mage."

"Neat," Hawke said. "And Varric? Does he know?"

"Varric helped me get here and got me the room. He knows, but only because I told him. There's nothing all that mysterious about me. I lost everyone I cared about in the Blight. I wanted a fresh start away from Ferelden."

"That simple?"

"Some things are."

"You're not a warden?"

"Not a warden or a templar. Just a warrior. I learned sword and shield with the templars, but more recently found I'm good with two blades. Now seemed like a good time to change. I've always been good with a bow."

"Did you fight at Ostagar?"

"As it happens," he said, his eyebrow raised, "I did. I've heard you and your brother did as well. I'm sorry you lost him."

Rory nodded. "We should raise a glass tonight then," she said. "It's been two years."

"What?" He looked up, puzzled. Gradually his frown eased. "Ah, since Ostagar. Seems like another life, or just yesterday."

"Depends how much you've had to drink."

Alun laughed. "It does, at that."

He got up and went past Hawke to a cask on the work table. "I've been meaning to talk with you since we discussed me joining you on the expedition with Varric's brother. I have some coin. If you want, I'll put in fifteen sovereigns toward your part of the expedition. It will make it happen more quickly."

"Why?" Hawke crossed her arms, eyes narrowed.

"I like an investment just like the next person, but it will diminish your share, so I'll understand if you-"

"-no, I accept. I'm tired of indentures and just getting by. I'd like to get this over with and get Bethany and Mother settled. I have almost thirty sovereigns. Your fifteen puts us close to the fifty we need. A few more missions and we can talk to Bartrand." She held out her hand and Alun reached out and took it. "I'm not sure why I trust you, but I do. My gut. Varric's confidence in you." She shrugged. "I did have a reason to visit you," Hawke added. "You know the clinic in Darktown? Opened a month or so ago?"

"I give Lirene some coin to keep it going each week, but I've never visited the Darktown clinic."

"I need to head down there to speak to one of the healers and bring Bethany back."

Alun raised his eyebrows.

"She's taken to helping. She has some healing skills and knows plants and potions. Can you come along? Not fond of wandering there alone, not in mood to listen to Fenris complain about mages, and Varric's busy. The healers don't come up to Lowtown very often, so Bethany sometimes spends the night, but I'd rather she come home…such as it is."

"Give me a minute and I'll join you downstairs."

x==========x

Alun had been to Darktown a few times with Hawke, but had not had much time to look around, between attacks. Most of the voices he heard sounded like home, but the conditions looked nothing like Ferelden, even during the Blight. Every nook and cranny of the underground had its occupants. Small groups had staked out their territory and, as he and Hawke strode by, hands dropped to daggers, while mothers retreated behind older boys and men with their smaller children. Dressed in patched and mended garments, some tried to maintain a semblance of dignity, while others, dirty and in rags, could no longer maintain the pretense. You'd think the Chantry might set up some aid stations, but I don't see any signs of brothers or sisters. The clinic must seem Maker sent.

"Oh good. The lamp's lit." Rory glanced at Alistair. "It means the healers are in. They're both…um…mages. That won't bother you?"

Smirking, Alun asked her if it wasn't a little late to ask him that. Hawke shrugged as she walked, saying if he didn't mind Bethany she figured healers would be just fine too. As they approached the entry, she suggested he wait outside until she could tell Anders who he was.

"Wait," he stopped short. "Anders? The healer's name is Anders?"

"You know him?" Rory said slowly.

"I know a healer named Anders. It's not a common name. Who's the other healer?"

"Another mage. Jowan-" she stopped, as Alun's eyebrows raised over wide eyes. "You know him too?"

Alun nodded. "I'll wait by the door." He stepped to one side and turned around after they entered. He leaned against the door jamb, as Hawke continued across the room to where Jowan waved his hands over a body on a table, spreading healing magic across the torso. Anders stood by the head, watching, but moved away as he saw Hawke approach. Alistair could not see Bethany, but a screen hid the back part of the room.

"Thanks for coming, Hawke," Anders said, surprised none of her usual companions stood with her. "Did you come alone? That's dangerous."

"No, I brought a friend," Rory said nodding towards the entrance.

Anders looked more carefully at the man leaning against the door frame and his jaw dropped, seeing the familiar silhouette.

"He recognized you too. I didn't know-"

"-no reason you should," Anders said, his voice low. He smiled. "Let me talk with him. We'll step outside. Keep Jowan, here will you? And don't mention Alun. He…well, Alun being here will surprise him. I need to work that out first."

Walking up behind him, Anders reached out and put his hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Alun."

Alistair did not turn around, but reached up and covered Anders hand with his own. "Let's go outside," he said and moved through the doorway. Heading down the stairs, he stopped by the flimsy railing overlooking water and cliffs. Anders followed.

"We worried, when you disappeared."

"Yeah, well," Alistair shrugged. "I…the Peak…it was all a pretense. At least here most people have a story they don't tell and just want to start over. No questions. Just, 'what can you do?' It works. Here I'm just Alun." His brow furrowed, he stared at Anders. "Just what are you doing here? And Jowan?"

"Ah, well therein lies a more complicated tale."

Alistair snorted. "Why does that not surprise me?" He looked around, trying not to grin. Just having Anders here, someone who knew him, made him happy. "Perhaps we should find a quiet place to talk. I have rooms at the Hanged Man. Why don't you come back with Hawke, Bethany, and me?"

"Let me tell Jowan I'm leaving. Wait here." He chuckled as he turned away. "Hawke's been trying to get me to that tavern all month. She has a bet with Varric that I'll come."

Alistair grinned. "I'll have to ask Varric for a finder's fee."

Anders looked back again, snorting. "Good to find you safe," he said and went into the Clinic.

A/N: Thank you for reading and to those of you who reviewed, favorited or gave kudos. Thanks to my wonderful betas Kira Tamarion and Elyssa Cousland whose efforts make this a better story. Any errors are mine. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.