A/N: I have a new "story", called The Lost Darlings. It's a place for one-shots that didn't (or won't) make it into Lost and Found for one reason or another, and I just couldn't bear to discard them completely. It's nothin' fancy, just a fun little side project that I'll add to along the way to completing this fic. :)

As always, thank you for reviews, favs, and follows!

xXXXx

Soon after the kiss and its consequences, Gwen excused herself from the courtyard. She fled to the comfort of her quarters for a moment of quiet reprieve after being flustered and embarrassed by her actions.

She'd lost Alistair in the crowd, and berated herself for her rash decision to let Hawke's promise become fulfilled. Recalling the embrace, her insides pinched with guilt as she climbed to the top of her stairs. She hadn't intended to kiss the Commander like that, but in the moment, it truly felt good.

Cullen was a handsome man, and the two had known each other since the beginning of the Inquisition, but there was something missing between them. He didn't stir her heart into a frenzy like Alistair did, nor did he inspire a weightless feeling when their eyes met.

In her mind, she recalled the split second of hurt in Alistair's honey-brown eyes.

Leaping up the last few stairs, she crossed her room quickly and opened the doors to the balcony. The wind tore past her and she closed her eyes to it, breathing in the cool mountain breeze.

Opening her eyes, she nearly yelled at herself. "What the hell was I thinking?! I have to explain to Cullen that it was a mistake before he thinks... Maker, I wonder what he must think of me."

Suddenly, the mark on her hand flared angrily and she scowled at it. "Oh, behave."

Stomping to her desk, Gwen grabbed a pair of thin gloves and shoved them onto her hands forcibly, still feeling the twinge on her palm beneath the leather.

"I need to talk to Cullen."

She found her schedule for the day and traced her finger down the list until she found her next appointment: Midday meeting: Tactical.

"Perfect."

.

Hurrying across the bridge above the market stands, she saw him coming toward her with a folder in his hand, walking in an easy stride, and back in his usual distinguished armor.

"Inquisitor?" Cullen tilted his head in confusion, picking up his feet to greet her. When he closed in, he looked at her with a knowing stare. "You're coming to talk about earlier, aren't you?"

"Yes."

He lowered his voice and took a step closer to her. "Not a scolding, I hope."

She laughed nervously. "No."

"Good." Cullen sighed with relief and shook his head. "Cassandra had a few words for me after the fight. I'm supposed to… apologize to you. So, I'm sorry things got out of hand this morning. It won't happen again."

"Accepted." Gwen then pinched her brows with concern. "She didn't reprimand you too harshly, I hope."

Cullen's mouth turned up at the corner. "The woman has conviction worthy of admiration, and I suspect she makes a loyal friend."

Gwen nodded, smiling at the thought of Cassandra protecting her virtue. "All true."

Shaking the smile away, he gestured to the main hall. "I have to prep the map for the Tactical Meeting. Join me on the walk?"

"This can't wait."

Cullen narrowed his eyes and shifted his feet, stifling a mild irritation at having to delay his plans. "Go on."

With a breathy sigh, she blurted out everything on her mind. "This morning…the kiss, well, I only kissed you back because it felt good to be really kissed after so long and for that, I'm the one who should be sorry."

Cullen's mouth hung open for a moment, and he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling at their predicament. Gracefully, he leaned toward her and lifted his eyebrow. "It was a good kiss, and I haven't been kissed in a long time either. I took a chance that you'd enjoy it, considering…"

"Considering what?"

He cleared his throat. "Rumor has it that your affections for a certain man are not reciprocated. Though, judging by his reaction after the fight, I'd say he's conflicted."

Gwen shook her head, and covered her face with her hands. "Who spreads these rumors?"

"They'll be rampant after this morning's display." Cullen smirked. "I am curious though, why did you agree to kiss me? It seems a little beneath you to play that game with a man."

"Alistair has made it clear that we can't… that nothing can come of us. So, it wasn't a play of any sort." Playfully, she chided the towering man beside her, gazing into his smiling eyes. "I will remind you: the first kiss I gave you was very chaste. You felt you needed to elaborate on it."

Cullen laughed heartily. "Alright, if we're being honest, I should tell you that I knew I'd only get that one chance."

"So, you took it?"

He looked almost offended by her questioning tone. "Damn right, I took it."

Gwen grinned at his fervor, under a flush of pink. "I appreciate your honesty, Cullen."

"And I yours." He laughed, adding a whisper before they started walking again. "Glad you enjoyed the kiss as much as I did."

.

As it usually was, the tactical meeting was short and to the point, much like the Commander himself. Cullen agreed to send a troop of thirty soldiers, led by Rylen, into the Western Approach with the Inquisitor, and this notion set Gwen at ease. It meant that they'd have the numbers to act once they arrived in the desert, and it was worth mentioning to Alistair when she saw him.

Gwen appreciated Cullen's stringent use of time as it allowed her a break after the meeting to do whatever she please. Strolling down the hall from the War Room, she collected her thoughts.

The Western Approach plan was nearly ready for enactment and she assumed that her advisors would send her off within a few days, but there were still places to visit and people to see around the keep.

Pushing the thought away, she reached the main hall and glanced down the nearly empty corridor. In a quick step, she made for her destination.

oOOOo

"What are you doing down here?"

When the Inquisitor's voice reached Alistair's ears, a slight panic flew over him and he hurried to pull a cloth over his work space. Hastily, he walked to meet her. "Ah, nothing in particular. I thought I should seek more worthwhile ways to end my boredom than… well, you remember this morning."

"I do." She dropped her eyes, almost forgetting the sparring bout in the confusion of seeing him in the Undercroft.

Curiosity restored, she attempted to peer around him. "What are you working on?"

He scooted in front of her. "Boring things, like, uh, oiling my leather for our trip and helping Dagna out with some of easy jobs."

Alistair gestured to the man at the next workbench. "Lem, over there has been teaching me the know-how."

"That's wonderful." Gwen's smile was genuine.

He crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the front of the table, further obscuring her view. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, I stop by periodically to see what Dagna has for me. She makes the most interesting contraptions."

"The dwarf has talent," he smirked, "especially when it comes to making trinkets for you."

Gwen stifled a grin, but knew he spoke the truth. "She makes things for all of us."

Alistair squinted and pointed to the side wall where there stood an exact body double of the Inquisitor, down to the individual fingers. "Not everyone has their own mannequin in the Undercroft."

She hid her eyes with her hand and grumbled. "I told her to put that thing away. It's embarrassing."

Smiling, she opened her mouth to speak, but his words hit the air before hers.

"I should really get back to my work."

"Right." Gwen nodded, then hesitantly continued her thought. "Should… we talk about this morning first?"

Pursing his full lips, he lowered his eyes. "I know it was a stupid way to occupy my time, I regret putting myself into the position."

"I thought the whole thing was rather harmless," she said succinctly, staring at the dirty floor.

"Tell that to my swollen lip." Alistair cracked a smile, easing into his next point. "After the fight, the people in the crowd... they let on that you and Cullen would make a good couple."

Gwen's eyes rose to meet his honey-brown eyes as they studied her. Immediately, her face plastered with concern. "I'm not interested in the Commander, Alistair."

"Hhm."

Close behind them, she heard shuffling amid the sound of other workers. Craning her neck, she saw Harritt lift his wily eye, and harrumph quietly. Professionalism taking over, she straightened her spine. "We shouldn't talk about this here."

Hopeful, he lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. "We could go somewhere, before tea with Leliana."

"I completely forgot." Gwen rubbed her eyes, covering her face in shame. "Josephine has me busy for the afternoon."

"Again?" Alistair frowned, his composure faltering. "What about Leliana?"

"She'll understand. I don't have the time, but I could meet you afterwards."

He leaned in, speaking in a low, tight, and derisive voice. "And yet, you seem to have had plenty of time to give favors to your Commander."

Clenching her fists, she took a step closer to him, narrowing her eyes in anger, her mark flaring again from beneath her glove. She held it behind her back as she said her piece. "For the last time: I didn't ask to kiss him! There was a chance you'd win. I even said a silent prayer that you would be victorious despite your feelings on the matter!"

Alistair stood silent, then dropped his eyes and leaned onto the table. "You enjoyed kissing him." His words reached her ears with an accusing tone.

She turned away from him, embarrassed. Without replying to his accusation, she pressed the conversation back to him. "Is this jealousy coming from the man who told me anything between us would be impossible?"

Irritated, he answered, huffing lightly. "I'm not... jealous. I'm more confused. You said… things to me yesterday. Were they untrue?"

"Do you really think so little of me? That I'm just a fickle girl, ready to swoon at any handsome man thrown in my path?"

"What? No! You're putting words in my mouth."

Drawing close to him to suppress her voice, she continued and squeezed her fist shut in anticipation of another outburst from the mark. "I did the most diplomatic thing I could do, and kissed him. Yes! I enjoyed it. No, I don't want to pursue the man! Maker's breath! It was only a kiss!"

Alistair shook his head, curbing his irritation. "I just don't understand it, but this is your life, and you can do whatever you want."

"Just so we're clear: 'whatever I want' doesn't include Cullen, regardless of what you think. You could have asked me about this without being childish. We're supposed to be friends."

Alistair watched her eyes darting back and forth to his, her expression sullen. "We are friends."

"I wish that were the truth, but I can see our relationship wavering." Calming herself down, she attempted to meet his eye. "You're right that we should talk privately, I just can't right now and I want you to understand that."

"Despite my words, I do." He nodded, feeling wretched.

Several times, the mark pulsed rhythmically, this time as she was calming down, not getting riled up. The aberrant action concerned her and she shuffled backwards, intent on putting some space between herself and the obviously irritated man before her. "Now, I should really go. Tell Dagna I was by, when you see her."

"I will."

Gwen flitted away in the next moment, leaving Alistair alone with his leather-work. He caught sight of Lem coming toward him, and pulled the cover from the table to start finding the place he left off.

A low gravelly voice interrupted him. "You've got yourself a situation, if I ever saw one."

The Warden grumbled as he lay out a pattern atop the wolf hide. "What are you talking about?"

"The Inquisitor's a hell of a woman, you'd be a fool to let her go."

"We're allies, working together toward a common goal." Smoothing out the leather, his squinting eyes shot up to the older man. "And quiet down; she hates rumors."

Lem shrugged and placed his hands on the leather while Alistair marked the cutting lines. "I said my piece."

oOOOo

"Hello? Excuse me for bothering you, but do you know where I might find Leliana. I was directed here, but I got a bit turned around." Alistair fumbled over the words, as a middle-aged elven woman turned to face him, first with surprise, then with curious eyes.

Fiona blinked, shaking her head as her answer came softly from smiling lips. She pointed gracefully toward the stairs. "She… she can be found in the Rookery, just one floor up."

"Oh. Thank you, ma'am." He flashed her a grin and stepped away.

"You are… the newest Grey Warden to grace Skyhold, no?"

Turning back to her, he nodded. "That I am." He looked down to his plain clothes and furrowed his brow. "How did you know?"

"Why, the eyes and ears of Skyhold told me, of course." She motioned a hand around her, smirking all the while.

Alistair smiled genuinely, then gave her a farewell bow of his head. "Well, I don't want to be late."

The elf continued to stare at him with intense eyes. "May I ask you a question, before you leave?"

He nodded, halting by the stair.

"Do you… enjoy your life?"

With pride, and a tilt of his head, he answered her, "As a Grey Warden, yes. I have never known a better home than with them. That's the reason I'm here actually: I'm trying to save them, despite their attempts to impede me."

With pensive eyes, she gave him a small bow. "Then, I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, young man."

.

Alistair bounded up the stairs. The noises from the crows grew substantially as he cautiously peeked his head over the last of the stone steps.

The bard sat with her quill dancing quietly over the parchment in front of her. "I see you there, Alistair. I'll be right with you."

Once finished, she walked to one of the many cages in the Rookery and opened its small door. Leading one of her pets to her arm, she brought it back to her desk and motioned for her Warden friend to sit. "Do you like my birds?"

"They're certainly an interesting hobby."He took his seat hesitantly, glancing around at the droppings on the floor. "Though, I think I preferred the lute."

Leliana raised an eyebrow as she attached the note to the crow's foot. "You think you are so humorous."

"Yes, but I rarely am, right?" The man sighed, resting his pounding head in his hands.

"Oh no, what troubles you?"

Alistair's low groan came muffled from behind his hands. "And I'm apparently transparent as well."

Leliana smiled and gave the bird a gentle pat on the back, before it hopped to the window and flew away with a soft caw. "Some things never change."

The rogue then tilted her head to her friend who revealed his amber eyes. "I think perhaps you are bothered by the infamous kiss between Gwen and Cullen. Hmm?"

"Can we not mention that?" Alistair rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair.

"If it makes you feel better, I could tell you that she did not appear to enjoy it."

The Warden shook his head. "No, that won't do. She admitted as much."

She shook her head along with him and looked around to the stairs. "Where is she? I sent her a missive this morning. I thought the three of us could enjoy tea."

"She's indisposed."

"She is the Inquisitor. You always pick the impossible ones." Her lips grew into a smile.

Alistair shook his head, dismissing the bard's insinuation. "I didn't pick—we're not—we're just friends, Leliana."

"Then why are you so rattled over one little kiss."

She then stood up firmly, rounded her desk, and pulled the Grey Warden by the arm to follow her. "Come. We can speak more of this when we reach our destination."

.

The Spymaster slipped silently through the door to the kitchens, with her confused quarry in tow. The room was busy with staff preparing the evening meal and the pair moved through almost unnoticed. A handsome, black-haired young man stopped them just feet away from their destination: a small door on the side of the room.

Alistair watched a concise communication unfold, observing the changes ten years had on his former traveling companion.

Dropping a small pouch into Leliana's hand, the boy spoke with a sly grin. "Here."

Weighing it, she nodded. "Tonight good for you?"

"The usual place?" He responded, tilting his head.

The redhead closed in, poking the young man in the well of his shoulder. "I only ask that you don't waste my time like last week. You practiced?"

He beamed at her. "I had the Mirella entranced the day before yesterday, ask anyone."

"Good, but I'm not a simple kitchen girl. I hope to see true improvement or my lessons, they will stop—" The bard stepped deeper into his space, until she noticed his uneasiness, and took a graceful step to the side.

Leliana then softened, asking sweetly. "Pardon me, now isn't the time to discuss this. Bring us tea in a few, would you?"

A wash of relief came over the young man's paling face and he nodded, "Of course."

Leliana barely waited for his response before she directed Alistair to the small door. It led them across a long, attic storeroom lined with food and other crated supplies. At the end of the room there was another miniature door, and opening it, the Warden felt the breeze upon his face immediately.

They were atop a small balcony, where the kitchen stove pipes vented steam and initially obscured his view. The rogue took lead and pulled her ally to a few crates at the end of the roof which overlooked the stables and the expanse of the Frostback mountains beyond.

"What a view." Alistair was distracted, and he sat roughly on a box, his eyes scanning the horizon.

Opening the drawstring bag in the middle of the crate between them, Leliana set to work, laying out a simple afternoon snack of soft biscuits, hard boiled eggs, and a jar of pickled turnips. There was a fork, cloth napkins, and the large pouch among the contents. The Warden turned his head back to the makeshift table in between them and lifted the pouch, which jingled with coin.

Alistair narrowed his eyes. "What did I see back there between you and the boy?"

The rogue blinked innocently, placing her hands in her lap. "He pays for lessons."

"Lessons in what, exactly." The man reached a hand out to grab a brown shelled egg from the array. Rolling it on the tabletop, he shook his head and scowled. "Ugh, do I want to even know?"

With a devilish grin, she chuckled in response. "The lute, Alistair. I teach him to play the lute. Little deviant doesn't practice enough though." She took a biscuit and broke a small piece off, nibbling it while rolling her eyes.

"Do you like teaching?"

Pulling her hood back, she lifted her eyebrows at her companion. "Teaching the young has its unique rewards, besides the coin, mind you. Their minds are far more pliable than adults, but they can be loathsome little shits at times."

"Hmmph. I wonder, what else are you teaching him besides music? Perhaps to be another set of eyes and ears for you in the kitchens?" Alistair shook his head again, attempting to peel the egg in one long strip. "For a moment there, I thought perhaps you taught him because you enjoyed it."

Popping another bite in her mouth, Leliana's head tilted in disappointment and she placed her hand atop his, squeezing gently. "You really have changed. Where is the optimistic, lovable young man I once knew?"

Alistair's face grew half serious. "He died on the roof of Fort Drakon, with the Archdemon."

"Don't be so bleak, it doesn't suit you." The rogue tilted her chin down, disapprovingly. "No, he is still in there, hidden behind this mask you wear. Perhaps all you need is someone to pull the mask away… perhaps someone has already begun the daunting task." She squeezed his hand again, removing it when she felt him pull away.

Alistair gazed out on the horizon, quiet for a moment, as he absorbed the view of the mountains below.

Leliana took an egg from the collection of food and tapped it gently on the makeshift table. "Did you know that we have an encampment in the valley?"

"No." He answered, disinterested, turning to pick up the larger of two remaining biscuits. "Should I have?"

"I was unsure which path you took through the mountains." Leliana shrugged, nonchalantly. "We recently built little cabins, much like the ones we had in Haven. Many of our guests reside there. It's less than an hour away on horseback. There's a lovely view on the way down: the tributary riverbanks glisten in the afternoon sun. Then of course there's the sunset over the mountains... breathtaking."

The rogue searched Alistair's eyes for a moment before continuing slowly. "They even built a small tavern, so the people don't have to travel to Skyhold for evening entertainment. The kitchen boy, he plays there some nights. It's a quiet, cozy spot." She trailed off, still capturing his gaze.

"That's… nice?" The Warden lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

"I'm unsure if Gwen has seen it." Leliana nodded slowly.

Alistair nodded with her, narrowing his eyes. "You—you think I should take her."

"What a splendid idea, Alistair!" The redhead crooned, her grin widening.

He narrowed his eyes and tossed his thumb behind him. "Did I not just tell you in the Rookery, that Gwen and I are merely friends?"

"You did." Leliana drew out the words, studying his movements and features closely, before nodding and continuing, "But your actions say far more than your poor lies."

"I am not lying, Leliana." He coughed, wiping the spray of crumbs from his lap. "There's nothing going on."

"Of course not." The bard smiled, dropping her eyes. "Tell me, what do you think of our illustrious leader?"

Alistair proceeded with caution, careful not to reveal more than professionalism. He knew what the trickster before him was trying to do. "Not that my opinion as an outsider matters much, but she's… intelligent, strong willed, and I think she's growing into the leader you need."

"Nothing more to say than that?" Leliana scoffed and began a tirade on the virtues of their mutual friend. "Maker, she's brilliant! And much more than that: she's resilient, thoughtful, eager, and not to mention a skilled mage. Her research is impeccable—I use every bit that she sends me. That woman is amazing."

Amid the rant, the Warden loosened his shoulders and stopped eating his biscuit. His eyes lowered to it, where it lay in his hands, while the corner of his mouth twitched into a traitorous smile.

Her tender whisper broke him out of his thoughts. "I can see that you agree."

The Warden clenched his jaw and his fists, squeezing the biscuit to crumbles in the process. Honey-brown eyes danced back and forth to read his companion's elated stare, until he closed them briefly and sighed, brushing the crumbs from his hands. "Can you be serious for a minute?"

The bard feigned insult. "You wound me; I am nearly always serious."

Alistair sat forward with his elbows on his knees and his head dropped in defeat.

With genuine care, Leliana placed her hand on her old friend's back. "My goodness, what has you so forlorn?"

Without looking at his companion, he responded dismally. "I do like her, but—"

"Hah! I knew you would! The two of you make a good match." The rogue smiled proudly. "And I know she likes you. I don't see a problem here."

In a pinched voice, he revealed a secret to the spy. "She kissed me, and well, I kissed her back, but then I told her we can't be more than friends."

"Oh." She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Why would you do that?!"

"He-ey!" His head lifted and eyes flew up to meet the bard's soft blue orbs. "This isn't anything but an infatuation for her; it'll pass in time."

"Alistair, are you listening to yourself, even if it is infatuation, why not pursue it?"

In a solemn stare, he spoke weary words. "The Calling. It lingers behind everything I do and say. I'm forcing myself to concentrate on you even now."

Leliana searched his eyes with care. With shocking realization, she whispered, "Maker, you're afraid."

Alistair dropped his eyes in an instant. "I'm essentially a dead-man if we don't fix this and even if we do, when the real Calling comes, I go to the Deep Roads. How am I supposed to tell her that? I like you, oh, and by the way, I'll be dead in ten years, maybe more."

The Spymaster tipped her chin to him. "Don't you think it's a bit premature. That's a decade from now, Alistair!"

"I know," he remarked back to her, affronted.

"You're being ridiculous. Stop thinking about the distant future; Relax in the present, and have fun with Gwen. Goodness knows she needs it."

"I don't want something casual. I want... Maker, I don't know what I want."

"Well, that much is clear."

"Listen to me," the man paused, staring at his hands as his words came soft and sincere. "Somewhere between Crestwood, the travel to Skyhold, and the last two days, I've come to realize that she's… the kind of woman that I would like to know more deeply than a few weeks worth of time together would allow."

Leliana closed her eyes briefly and a flicker of sorrow passed over her face. "Oh."

"Yes, well... you can see my predicament then, seeing as I have so little time with her and I'm distracted... I think it best if I ignore that realization and keep to my mission. I've confused her enough already. "

The bard crooned softly, aware of her companion's vulnerable admission. "There is a bond between the two of you, one that I surmise will last beyond your time with us and I believe that Gwen would be equally distraught at losing you, friend or lover."

The man raised his head, breathing deeply through his nose. "Perhaps."

"Don't you think she should make the decision for herself? Perhaps she thinks you're worth the pain."

"I... suppose."

"You deserve a little romance in your life, Alistair." Leliana trailed off, continuing to pick at her biscuit.

He queried on the dangerous memories of the past. "You don't feel guilty about Mihna, do you?"

"No. She would not have made a good match for you." The bard spoke softly. "You need a kind woman, one who is gentle and patient. Someone who can stand on their own and yet will require your tenderness in weak moments, and vice versa. Mihna is none of those things."

She reached again out to place a hand atop his, gripping it while she spoke. "Gwen is all of those things."

His mouth lifted into a jerky smile. "She is, isn't she?"

"And so much more. I have known you both for longer that you have known one another." She sent him a sly smile. "When your name came up in our conversations, I saw the potential for a great friendship, possibly more."

Alistair's brow furrowed with thought. "I need time to think this through."

"I know, heed my words, but remember, this decision needs to come from you, not me."

Behind them the small door opened, and the dark haired young man ducked with a small tray in his hand. After placing the steaming tea, he left quickly and the pair began to speak again once they were sure he was well away from them.

Alistair creased his brow and nodded. "What about my duty to the Grey Wardens? I can't just leave them to be with her."

She laughed willfully. "Love is not a binding chain, look at Mihna and myself. And besides, aren't you being hunted by your fellows?"

"They're out looking for me. I drew the line when they started using blood magic." He clenched his fists. "I need to figure out exactly what's going on, in all truth. I need to get to the Western Approach."

Asking the obvious question, Leliana grinned. "And who has volunteered, nay, promised to help you even before her feelings for you were known?"

The man's eyes softened. "Gwen."

"I think she can sense your devotion to your order. I know she felt the same about her Circle, and yet lost it to the war. She understands duty more than you realize."

The man nodded, thankful. "You've given me something to consider, as you have done in the past, thank you."

"De rien." Leliana popped a piece of egg into her mouth, pleased by his change of demeanor since they arrived on the rooftop. Grabbing a cloth, she lifted the teapot and poured black tea into each of the two cups. A small jar of honey sat on the tray and she placed a small dollop in the cups, along with a splash of cream. Stirring each, she sat back on the crate to allow the hot beverage to cool before partaking.

"So..." Alistair relaxed his shoulders, easing their conversation to other matters. "You've been busy these last years."

She smirked, continuing to pick at her food, but otherwise sitting quite still. "I suppose so."

The man chuckled softly at her controlled body language. "Imagine my surprise when Gwen mentioned the young ginger bard from my troupe was Sister Nightingale and The Left hand of the Divine."

The rogue lifted her eyebrow. "You didn't know?"

"Nope. I'd heard stories and read reports of your various involvements across the map." Alistair shrugged. "Now though, I feel as if I should have made the connec-"

With a jarring slam, the young man from the kitchen burst through the door again, and Leliana walked swiftly to meet him. They stood away from the Warden and spoke in hushed tones. After he left, she strolled back to him, dismayed. "I'm sorry; I'm needed elsewhere."

"I should stop trying to make plans while I'm here." Waving his hand at the untouched cups of tea before them.

The rogue tipped her head at him and scowled in rebuke.

Timid, Alistair apologized. "That came out more aggressive than I meant, sorry. You're Spymaster first."

She closed in, taking a quick seat next to him and gazing into his kind eyes. "Yes, but I'm still your friend and I have one last piece of advice."

"Being here is a single step toward your goal; A few days more and you'll be gone. Take the time to consider what you want, now and in the future; I suspect you'll have little time to do so in the coming months."

The man tilted his head at her.

Tipping her chin down to him, Leliana spoke plainly. "I'm speaking of Gwen specifically: what do you want from her?"

He huffed out the words. "I can't answer that."

Leliana continued in a disapproving tone. "If you should decide to stay friends, stop leading her on. The last thing she needs is a broken heart."

"I promise, I won't break her heart."

"Good." The rogue rose and turned on her heel gracefully, taking a few steps for the door, calling out before she opened it. "You know your way back, no?"

Aloof, Alistair nodded and in the next moment she was gone.

Sighing, he took a spoon from the tea tray and stirred his cup with a new, preoccupied mind. In a few swallows, he downed the tea and examined the rest of the food with a keen eye. He spoke aloud to himself, half grumbling. "I can't believe she didn't bring cheese."

Picking up the jar on the table, he examined its contents. With a shrug he broke the wax seal on the jar and skewered a pickled vegetable with a fork, popping half the wedge into his mouth as he watched the sun drift slowly toward the mountains beyond. The sourness did nothing to sate his hunger, nor his frustration, even after eating the contents of the entire jar.

He left the rest of the luncheon where it lay on the makeshift table and retreated to his room to ready himself for dinner and as well as mull over what the bard had said.

.

Alistair opened the door to his guestroom and found a note atop the bedside table with his name on it, written in elegant script.

Snatching the letter in his hand, he walked to the easy chair by the roaring fire and threw himself down onto its soft cushion.

Tapping the note on his thigh, he tugged impatiently at his ear, and finally opened it, expecting the worst.

…

Alistair,

I barely finished my work before Josephine brought a very elite individual into the meeting room. He requested to speak with me personally, and has had much to say as we are still in talks. This could be a great ally for the Inquisition, even Leliana was called in, having some rapport with the man.

I have a feeling this will continue into the evening, but I feel like we left things unsaid in the Undercroft. I keep going back to what you said yesterday about not wanting this relationship to be reduced to guarded professionalism, and I can't agree more. We make good friends, and I want that back.

We need to make sure this friendship is on solid ground again before we venture into the Western Approach together. Our duty takes precedence over all else, and we can't be upset with one another when there is more at stake.

I may be bold in requesting this, but if you want to speak with me tonight, meet me outside the door to my quarters at the quiet bell. I'll be there waiting for you, but if you don't show, I'll understand.

Gwen

…

Strong, nimble fingers gripped the letter tightly, and with his other hand, Alistair gripped his chin in consternation. "What exactly do I want?"

oOOOo

A lithe servant woman stepped quietly from the Inquisitor's quarters into the dimly lit and quiet throne room. Dropping a small laundry bag to the ground, she turned a key in the lock and bent down to pick up the bundle.

Alistair lifted his head from his place, seated on the platform that held the Inquisitor's throne-chair . He jumped up at the presence of the woman and stalked over to her.

"Will she be returning?" He blurted out, startling the woman as she rose from the ground with the laundry bag.

Confused and a little fearful, she answered, "The Inquisitor?"

He nodded.

"I don't think so, Serah."

"Damn." He hissed out a whisper.

"Pardon, Serah?"

"There's no chance you'd… let me up there, is there?" He lifted an eyebrow to her.

The woman scowled at him. "I don't make a habit of letting strange men into her worship's quarters after dark. So, no, Serah."

Awkwardly, Alistair responded, bringing his hand up to his neck and tugging at his ear. "That's very good of you. Thank you, and... never mind any of this, please."

She nodded and scampered away with her bundle.

The Warden let out a sigh. He'd been waiting since the last bell rang, and the minutes stretched on endlessly. Maybe she fell asleep.

Alistair strolled back to the center of the main hall, pacing as his thoughts ran wild.

She's just late; she said she'd be here and she will be.

What am I going to say to her when we're finally alone?

An apology should do...

Amid his distracting thoughts, a small shape emerged from the Inquisitor's quarters and silently shut the door.

She wore her thick, grey wool cloak over white leather leggings and a deep green, long-sleeved, belted tunic that hung to her mid-thigh. On her feet were thin, cream colored, woolen slippers with leather soles. Creeping up on the troubled man, the woman spoke softly to ease herself into his presence.

"Alistair?" Gwen's quiet voice echoed off the walls and she looked around before smiling. "I didn't keep you waiting long, did I?"

Startled but happy, he walked toward her. "No, not long."

Tilting her chin toward the double doors at the end of the main hall, she started down the corridor. "How about a walk?"

Nodding, he took a deep, shaky breath and followed.

xoXOxo

As they stepped out into the cool air, the Warden offered his arm and with a hesitant smile, the Inquisitor took it, touching him carefully. He tucked her hand away gently and they took to the stairs. The descent was slow and Gwen stole several glances over to him, noticing his posture ease into relaxation with every forward movement. The courtyard fell under their feet and Gwen pulled them to a stop, dropping her arm from his grasp.

"You're different."

Pretending to be taken aback, he turned to meet her green eyes, deep sage now from the lack of bright light. "Am I?"

"Yes. You were flustered, angry even, when we spoke in the Undercroft." Gwen's heart jumped at the way he looked at her, his eyes focused and on the edge of cheer. "Did something happen since then?

"I had tea with Leliana, and the evening to think." Finding his feet very interesting at that moment, his gaze fell. "She may have cleared up a few… concerns I had, but there's still more to consider..."

Gwen grinned, interrupting him with a noise akin to a squeal. "I love that woman."

Lifting his eyebrows, he chuckled at the outburst. "There, we can agree."

"It must've been an interesting conversation."

"Well," Alistair shifted his stance, wincing slightly at her comment.

Observing his discomfort, she interrupted him. "Never mind."

"You're sure?"

Gwen nodded passionately. "Yes. To the void with my curiosity tonight; I want to let everything go and simply take a walk with a friend."

Relieved, he gave her a thankful smile. "Then that's exactly what we'll do."

She pointed to a set of stairs ascending to the battlements a little way from where they were standing. "This way."

Without a word, he took a step toward her and offered his arm again. This time, she took it eagerly and continued to lead them up to the battlements. As she held him in a loose grip, she felt the mark react and clenched her fist.

Reaching the top, the winds grew, whipping the cool, fragrant air against their skin. They stood still together, looking out over the expanse of her domain: windows were lit all over, as well as sparse torches along the walking paths, and all the bits of light collected into a warm radiance, illuminating Skyhold in a dim glow.

Above the lighted yard, they could barely see one another, and Gwen held tight to him again, both fearing the mark's flare and not wanting to lose this new version of him in the dark.

Humming with childish delight, she spoke without thinking, "The sky is so clear tonight. I want to…"

Smiling, his voice lilted with interest, "You want to what?"

Gwen cringed as the words left her mouth. "Well, I was going to say stargaze... but-"

A curiosity sparked in Alistair's eyes and he pulled at her arm, still nestled under his. "Let's do it, then."

Taking their time, they strolled the battlements, finding an alcove off the main walkway that housed several crates. It was mostly quiet and dark, though they could hear soft mumbled voices and music on the air from the tavern nearby. Alistair released her arm, taking her hand to help lower her to the nearest crate. He took the one next to her and they both sat back against the boxes.

Time went by with silence between them, each wondering what to say and both equally reluctant to break the magic of the simple, beautiful night.

Alistair craned his head, sighing deeply as he panned the sky. "Maker, I haven't felt this way since I was a boy."

Her whisper cut through the dark. "How so?"

He turned toward her, making out the curve of her face and the glint in her eyes. "I feel free, in a way: there's time for pausing to stare at the stars. A consequence of having no clear path, I suppose."

"Oh." The disappointment was clear in her voice.

"No, it's not a bad feeling. Not tonight anyway." Easing into his next point, his throat tightened. "I should've tried to do something worthwhile instead of wasting time with Hawke. I'm… sorry about earlier."

She repeated her former words, not wanting to start on that thread of discussion again. "The fight was harmless."

"What I meant is that... I'm sorry, for the way I acted towards you in the Undercroft."

"Oh." With a secret smile, she responded, "I'm sorry too."

"Yes, well, at least now we can move past it." He chuckled softly. "I don't think I've ever been so eager for a single day to end."

The woman sighed with relief. "I quite agree."

Flooded with questions, Gwen bit her tongue for the moment. The time didn't feel right for asking him about the change in his attitude, and she supposed that if he wanted to talk about it, he'd broach the subject on his own terms. She was quite content to enjoy sitting in the dark with him, staring at the constellations.

As they lounged, the winds had increased, sending Gwen's hair whipping about. Covering her mouth with her hand, she yawned quietly and caught Alistair turning his head to see her in the dim light.

Turning to him, she smiled. "Do you want to walk again?"

"Where to?"

"Somewhere with less wind." She pulled at her hair, attempting to gather it over one shoulder.

"Sure." He smiled in earnest, holding out his hand to her.

Gwen took it and felt his fingers curl around her palm. She rose to her feet, and expected him to let go, but he held on. Alistair guided her across the ramparts and to the stairs leading into the courtyard. Her heart leapt, she felt her face heat up, and she was thankful for the dark to mask it. Inwardly, she scolded herself for this immaturity; they were only holding hands. The implication of the action was weighing on her thoughts and she had to force herself to calm down, lest she agitate the mark.

With casual grace, he moved her hand again to his arm as they descended the stairs.

Alistair turned to her, his face warmly lit from lamplight in the yard. His lip curled into a smirk as he studied her expression of curiosity. "Tell me about the rest of your day."

"Very boring." Gwen chuckled and pulled him toward the stables. "Oh, but the Tactical meeting was informative."

"How so?"

"Cullen... he's decided to send thirty soldiers with us to the desert, led by Knight- Captain Rylen."

Alistair furrowed his brow, his voice hitching with relief. "That's... wonderful news."

"The troop leaves tomorrow with supplies and arms, and we'll be leaving the day after next." Sensing the change in his disposition, she jiggled at his arm. "We can finally start on your quest."

"Yes." They continued to walk past the empty market tables. "The Inquisition... and you have done so much for me. I can't repay you for any of it."

"And you'll never need to. Your cause is just, and the fate of the Grey Wardens affects us all."

"Thank you."

Passing through the empty market, they courted silently and slowly, savoring the new sensation of each other's simple touch. There was a pleasant banality to the act, which they both delighted in. The days to come wouldn't be so casual.

Ahead of them was black with night, and Alistair pulled back on her arm easily until they looped around through the market again towards a light at the end of the strip.

Gwen's voice was soft and low, and barely disrupted their peace. "Do you miss the Grey Wardens?"

"I do. They're... my family." Alistair slowed his feet and they stood together in the dark market. "I probably shouldn't admit this, but I feel almost lost without them."

Gwen pulled him toward the large barn they'd passed which was lit by a single lantern by the door. The light was low and it was still difficult to see one another, but there was an appealing stack of straw bales resting there, and so they sat.

"Why did you speak out then? You must've known the Wardens would react like this."

"I didn't, honestly." His voice was dull and quiet. "I don't blame any of them. We all swore to follow the Warden Commander. I disobeyed a direct order and my claims against blood magic were considered dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"I've seen what blood magic can do to mages and I didn't want the Wardens to be part of that." The man's voice changed abruptly, to a growl. "It disgusted me, and I didn't hide it. Clarel worried that I might sway others."

Carefully, she responded. "I haven't seen it used many times, but I agree that there's something unsettling about it."

Turning his head to her, he went on with the same vehemence. "There was a blood mage rebellion at Kinloch Hold during the Blight. That's where I first met... the Commander."

"I-I knew he was there; he doesn't speak about it."

Softening his voice, he leaned back onto the bale. "It was bad. Blood mages were turning their colleagues into abominations, making deals with demons, who then ran loose tormenting their victims. Cullen was tortured for Maker knows how long."

Quickly, he added, "I probably shouldn't be telling you this."

Gwen nodded in the dark. Leaning back, she brushed into Alistair's shoulder. "Let the mysteries of the past rest. He deserves that much."

"Yes... It's hard to believe it's been ten years." Alistair let out a cold chuckle. "You were at the Circle in...?"

"Ostwick." She blushed, realizing that while Alistair was slaying demons, she was barely a teenager. "I'd been there about a year."

"What were you like back then?"

The woman let out a short laugh. "I was fourteen, and mired in the thoughts only a young girl could be. I remember missing my father terribly."

"Only your father?"

"The rest of my family treated me differently after my magic came." She quieted her voice, not letting the emotion slip through. "Not my father though, he told me it was a gift. I suspect he said that to keep a young girl from fearing herself."

"I'm sorry."

Against her shoulder, she felt Alistair jump when she reached for her mana and produced a flame in her right hand. Turning toward him, she grinned. "I wouldn't give this up for anything."

Across the firelight, he caught the grin as it faded into contented smile. "It suits you, truly."

Gwen kept the light fed and watched it flicker, casting a soft glow over his face. Their eyes met and she pinched her eyebrows together, trying hard not to think about the handsome man next to her, and how enticing he looked bathed in firelight. Swallowing the thought, she consumed the flame and the night fell back over them.

"Enough about me and my family, do... you want to talk about yours?"

Alistair snorted. "Not particularly."

She nudged him. "I'm trying to get to know you better. Family seems like a good place to start."

She waited, feeling his hesitation when his body stilled and his breath deepened. Offering him a reprieve, she continued in a hushed tone, "I know you've stopped the conversation before, and I've tried not to think of it, but I admit: I'm curious what you're hiding."

Alistair turned his head toward her voice, scowling at her. "I'm not hiding anything; there's not... really much to tell."

"I'd still like to know."

"Fine." He hissed through his teeth. "Let's see: my parents are dead, and I had a half-brother once, who also died. I suppose I have one living relative out in Thedas somewhere, but I doubt we'll ever meet. That's all, really. I don't talk about it because there's nothing to talk about, with them all being dead or out of reach."

"Forgive my brashness, but why did you live at Redcliffe Castle as a child if your parents were gone?"

Alistair rolled his eyes dramatically, though Gwen couldn't see. "Eamon Guerrin took me in, that's why."

She puzzled for a few moments, allowing the words to spill out casually. "I've wondered about the dream, over the last week… you asked if I minded that you're a bastard. It almost broke my heart to witness it, but something doesn't add up... why would Eamon have taken you in... unless... are you sure he isn't your father?"

"You are relentless." He dropped his chin to his chest, then perked up, grinning into the night. "Wait. What am I getting out of this interrogation?"

"Ask me anything; I promise I'll answer truthfully." Gwen spoke with a daring voice.

Studying her dark shape, he leaned in and spoke lowly to her ear, "I'll hold you to it."

Turning her face toward the tickle at her ear, she felt his breath and caught a dark glint in his eye from the light in the courtyard. Whispering to him, she turned the conversation back to him. "You shouldn't feel ashamed of your past. It isn't fair to judge a child by something they have no control over." Laying her hand on his forearm, she squeezed and continued. "The only thing that matters to me is the man you are today."

Alistair sat back roughly against the prickly straw, realizing he wasn't going to walk away from her without some kind of explanation. "I know. And... it's a bit more complicated that I'm letting on, but none of it means anything to me anymore." He sighed aloud. "Why are you so interested, besides getting to know me?"

Gwen sat still next to him, puzzling again. "A man arrived at Skyhold tonight and given what was said in your... dream, I'm inclined to tell you about him."

He straightened his spine and asked with genuine curiosity. "Who is it?"

"Teagan Guerrin, the Arl of Redcliffe."

Alistair relaxed again, and the smile on his face could be heard in his response. "I'd like to see him and before you press me again: no, he is not my blood uncle."

She twitched her nose, while examining him for telltale signs of lying. "I guess believe you."

He elbowed her gently. "Good, then we can drop it."

Through a yawn, Gwen responded. "I'll arrange a meeting, if Leliana hasn't already done so. He's staying in the valley."

Slowly, he put forth a question, trying to sound nonchalant. "Would you... go with me?"

"Feeling nervous about seeing the Arl?" Gwen grinned. "Maybe he's your father..."

Alistair ignored her jab, in favor of sincerity. "No, actually. I was going to ask if you'd like to go to the tavern afterwards."

Gwen jibed, nudging him and sending a bark of laughter into the night. "Like a date?"

But Alistair wasn't laughing. "Yes."

Her expression dropped for a moment before she sat up a bit straighter and a slow smile grew. "I would love to."

"Good." He smiled sweetly, before he stood and again held out his arm for her. "Now, let's head back to the hall. I wouldn't be a gentleman if I kept a lady out to the wee hours."

Gwen paused for a moment, unresponsive, and staring at his silhouette against the light from the courtyard. Something had definitely changed in him.

Distracted by the thought, she numbly reached for his arm and allowed herself to be paraded up the stairs.

The pair reached the main hall after a swift and silent course through the yard. Closing the double doors to the wind, they stood with their backs against the wood and Alistair looked down to his companion, noticing Gwen's pink cheeks from the whip of the wind.

"I think you have windburn."

"Delightful." Abashed, she touched her cool hands to her face and propelled herself from the door and down the hall.

Alistair followed suit, catching up with her as they neared the small throne that sat at the far end.

"I had some time to look at it while I waited for you and I have to say, you weren't kidding; it's kind of pathetic." He pointed and gave her a ridiculing look.

"Are you making fun of my throne?" Gwen scolded him.

"I would never." Chuckling he walked around it, scrutinizing it further. "But you don't even really sit above the rest of the hall."

"I hardly ever use it."

Alistair lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "What's it like?"

"Do you want to try it out?" Gwen asked with a sly smirk.

"No… of course not." He laughed nervously. "Why would I?"

Pointing to the chair, she walked to her door and stifled a yawn. "As Inquisitor, I give you permission to sit in my throne anytime you want, should you feel the desire."

Alistair's eyebrows rose again, this time with amusement. "I appreciate the thought."

The woman chuckled and turned the handle, opening her door in a hurry. "Well, Goodni—"

"Wait." Reaching for her left hand, he gently held it in his own, bringing her knuckles to his lips slowly. Alistair's lips were soft and full and she was sent back to the kiss in the cave, however awkward it was. Her face flushed and he released her.

Speaking quietly, he peered into her sage-green eyes again. "Thank you for making time for me tonight."

With pursed lips, she turned back to face the door. "You're welcome."

"Goodnight, Gwen." With an agile pivot, he turned and walked swiftly to the door leading through the balcony and up to his room, sparing a single glance back to her before he opened the door and disappeared within.

The Inquisitor opened her door, retreated to the safety of her lower hallway, and paused to lean against the door as it closed. She was a bit bewildered.

"What the hell did Leliana say to him?"