Postcards From the Edge

Part 1 – Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

My remaining companions were aware of my reassignment, but not how the king had postponed it. One by one, they came to my room to talk.

"I have a question, if I may," Zev began. We'd been down this path numerous times, and it always related to his future and his freedom.

"What's on your mind?"

"I swore an oath to you, and I have fulfilled it, have I not?"

"You have," I said. "Admirably."

"Then my question to you is this: If I wished to go, would you allow me to leave?"

"Allow you to leave?" I repeated. "Zev, you've not only met the terms of our agreement, but you've gone far beyond what I expected of you. I would hate to see you go, but you are free to pursue whatever course suits you."

He looked relieved. Did he think I would try to hold him longer than we'd originally agreed? I asked as much. "No, I did not think you would go back on your word, my friend. I suppose I still feel a… connection, is it? Although you have been a leader worth following, I have no desire to go to Vigil's Peak. My time with the Grey Wardens is over. But I would not feel right to leave you without your consent."

"You have it. As I said, you're free to go where you like and do as you wish."

With an expression that I can only describe as determined, he answered, "I do not wish it, but there is some unfinished business in Antiva that requires my attention."

I understood what he meant. He wanted to settle the score with the Crows and show them he wouldn't run from them any longer. He would face them as he had faced and defeated his former handler Taliesin and his shady compatriot Ignacio. When I first met him, Zev was, as he put it, "cocky and arrogant" but without the skills to back up his boasting. He was a different man now. Instead of cockiness, he evinced self-confidence.

"You have my leave, Zev. May the Maker go with you."

He beamed his impish smile. "The Maker might have to turn His head for a some of this, but I thank you all the same. You have proven yourself to be a true friend. I will not forget you."

"Nor I you." It was a touchy topic, but I had to ask. "What about Leliana? You two have been involved for months. Is she going with you?"

"I… cannot be burdened with a relationship. We have talked at length, and while she does not agree with me, I think she has accepted that it is time for us to part ways."

"I see." I felt sorry for Leliana. She had pinned all her hopes on Zevran, and in spite of his oft-repeated cautions to her that their romance was temporary, she'd fallen in love with him, and I supposed she thought she would change his mind.

"So this is it? You're really going to leave me?" Leliana came into the room, having overheard our conversation. I suspected she had been listening outside the door for a while, but I couldn't fault her for it. She genuinely loved Zev. Every one of us, at some point, had experienced heartache. Leliana was a sensitive person, and because of some unwise decisions, she had suffered more than her share of emotional pain over the years.

"I will not have this discussion with you again," Zev said, not unkindly. He was aware of her feelings for him and he regretted that she'd allowed herself to fall victim to an elusive emotion—one he still didn't understand—despite his warnings. "I must go, and I must go alone."

"You don't have to do this alone," she disagreed. "We're the same, you and I. I can help you."

"No."

"That's all you have to say? 'No'? Won't you hear me out?" Her voice was quavering.

"I have heard you before, and you know my answer. I will do what needs to be done, and I will do it on my own. Do you not have something to take care of in Orlais?" He referred to Marjolaine. His tone softened and he lifted her chin. "Go, Leliana, and regain your freedom. Clear your name. You will find the satisfaction you derive from it more valuable than this love you profess." He kissed her on the cheek, then approached me and did likewise. "Farewell, Grey Warden."

Leliana stared after him disbelievingly. "He's gone," she said in a near-whisper. She wasn't talking to me, but to herself. "Zev…"

"I'm so sorry," I said to her.

She turned to me, and her sorrow was tainted with anger. "What would you know of pain and heartbreak? You strut about while all the men fall at your feet, but none of them are good enough for you, are they? Alistair, Aiden, and even Zevran cared for you, did you know that? Did you know that Zevran constantly compared me to you, and I always came up short in his eyes?"

She was exaggerating. Aiden and Morrigan had been practically inseparable. "Leliana, you know there was never anything between Zev and me. We were friends and that was all."

"You would have me believe that, wouldn't you?" Her tone was turning vindictive. "You treated me like I was stupid and childish and hardly worthy of your time."

Stupid? No, gullible is a better word for it. Childish? Well, isn't your behavior proving that you are childish? Sympathy aside, she was starting to wear on my patience. "I think it best we end this discussion before it gets worse. I don't want to say things I'll regret later."

"No need for that," she snapped. "I heard what Wynne said about Andraste's ashes and how you destroyed them. You lied to me when you said you'd found them."

"How was it a lie? How could I have destroyed them if I hadn't found them first? You're not making sense."

"Oh I'm making sense, but you deny it because you can't admit to having flaws. You're a prideful woman, and that will be your downfall. Too bad I won't be around to watch your humiliation. I'm leaving, and I pray our paths never cross again." She stomped out of the room dramatically and slammed the door to punctuate her indignation.

Maker's blood, it's too early in the day for this nonsense. Two more companions gone. Only Aiden is left, and I assume he'll be going home to Highever.

As if on cue, there was a knock at my door. "Enter," I called wearily.

Let's get this over with.

As I thought, it was Aiden. His demeanor was friendly, even jocular. "I see the lovebirds have flown the nest," he said. "And in separate directions. That's good. Imagine if those two had been allowed to breed." He'd never been fond of Leliana, and didn't hold a high opinion of Zev either. "Good riddance to them both, I say."

"And what are your plans? You're the last one. Come to say goodbye?"

"Why would I do that?" He asked, his blue-gray eyes widening in surprise. "I'm still a Grey Warden, aren't I? And you do plan on taking me with you to Vigil's Keep, right?"

His words came as a relief. I couldn't help myself; I flung my arms around his neck and said, "Thank the Maker for you."

He chuckled and returned my impulsive embrace, sharing one of our brother-sister moments. "Well, I don't hear that often enough. Feel free to repeat it anytime."

I told him the reassignment had been postponed and informed him of my current mission. He was eager to get started. "This is a nice house," he said, "but I was getting bored with all the sitting around and waiting. If you must go into another coma, do you think you could be considerate enough to limit it to one day at most?"

"It will be good to have you along, you spiteful oaf," I joked back. "I've got a few things to take care of, then I'll be down for breakfast. Meet you there shortly?"

"Better hurry if you want food. I woke up famished." He grinned at me and walked out.

My pack had been located somehow, in the havoc that was Denerim, and brought to my room. It was a mess inside. Broken flasks had leaked their contents on everything. My papers and books were ruined and my spare undertunic stained. I picked through the items, salvaging what I could and discarding the rest. Then I checked my weapons. I expected to find them coated with dried blood, but someone had cleaned and polished my swords. My armor was clean too, and I was glad I'd traded in the porous leather armor for the sturdier, waterproof dragonskin. Wade had worked a miracle with the fit. I donned it, strapped on my swords, and prepared to leave.

Another visitor dropped by. "I couldn't leave for Redcliffe without seeing you," Teagan said. "Are you quite sure you're well enough to travel?"

"I'm fine," I answered. In truth, I wasn't feeling too energetic, but I wasn't going to say anything about it. I remembered Anders' recommendation, but like Aiden, I was bored and ready for a change of scenery.

"I do wish you would reconsider this assignment and come to Redcliffe with me."

"I can't just ignore the king's orders, even if he was under my command for fourteen months," I laughed. "He's in charge now, remember."

"He would understand. Trust me."

His concern was heartwarming. No, it was more than that. I was happy that he cared so much for my well-being. "Thank you, Teagan. I will be seeing you soon, you know. Redcliffe is the last stop on my little fool's errand tour of western Ferelden. I'll be ready for a nice break by then."

He moved close to embrace me. I didn't protest. I enjoyed the feeling of his arms around me. My heart pounded out a rapid cadence. Without waiting for him to initiate the kiss that I knew was coming, I raised my face to his. "A kiss for luck, then?" He complied instantly. Not a single kiss, either. We kissed passionately, until I had to stop it before it went too far. Undeniably, I was attracted to him in a way that no other man drew me.

Is this real love? And is that why I couldn't make love with Alistair—because I already had feelings for Teagan? Is it why I feel no guilt for sleeping with him, and why I miss him when we're apart for too long?

"Come soon," he whispered against my hair. "I'll be waiting for you. And worrying."

"Don't worry for me. I'll have Aiden with me, and his hound, and I have plans to pick up another recruit or two along the way."

"That gladdens me to hear it." He kissed me once more. "I must go now, my love. I'll give you one last chance to change your mind…" He said it with a smile, knowing my answer.

"I'll see you in a couple of weeks, or a month at most, depending on what I find out there." I replied. "That's a promise. And you know I keep my promises."

Eamon left instructions that I, and any of my traveling companions, be given horses for our trip. It wasn't a loan, but a gift. We could take our pick from any horses in the palace stables. I chose a sturdy chestnut stallion with a blonde mane and tail. Aiden selected a larger one, solid black and lean, bred for speed.

"Are you planning to race me to Highever?" I asked archly.

"I wasn't until you brought it up."

"I wonder if we should get one more," I said, thinking aloud. "We'll be needing it soon."

"Oh?" He eyed me curiously. "I take it someone will be joining us. Care to share who it is?"

"In good time," I answered, letting his curiosity nag at him a while. I'd learned that he was a highly inquisitive man, and unanswered questions and mysteries drove him nuts. Like my shrouded past, for example. Alistair once told me that Aiden kept after him all the time to find out why I left Starkhaven and came to Ferelden. What kind of life did I have before I came here? Why was I so moody? Why didn't I succumb to my male companions' good looks and charms?

"Your Ladyship, if you please!" a servant called to me. I wondered how it became known that I was from a noble family. I hadn't told anyone but Alistair. "Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven has asked to see the Marquess Winter MacEwan. He's in the study."

Why in oblivion is that fool throwing titles around? Being called Hero of Ferelden is burden enough; my Starkhaven title is meaningless.

"Tell him I'll be right in," I sighed. At this rate we wouldn't get on the road until noon.

"Marquess, huh? If you and Alistair had listened to me instead of being all shy and stupid, you could be queen by now." Aiden never missed a chance to snoop into others' lives, but his charm allowed him to get away with it. "Well, Your Ladyship, I'll wait for you here," Aiden said. "If you like, I can select another horse for our mystery companion."

"No, not yet," I answered absently, walking back to the house.

Sebastian greeted me like an old friend, Starkhaven style, with an embrace and a kiss on each cheek. "I'm glad I caught you before you left."

"I didn't expect that you would still be in Ferelden, but this isn't exactly the first time you've surprised me with visits," I smiled. "One of which was perfectly timed."

"Glad to be of help, and to be part of something more exciting than listening to landowners' gripes," he replied. "You're a hard lady to reach. The first time, as I recall, your boyfriend knocked me out." He rubbed an imaginary injury on his jaw.

"You had that coming," I scolded, and he agreed. "Now please tell me how you managed to end up still in Ferelden when you were supposedly put aboard a ship that same day."

"Oh, they put me aboard a ship alright," he said. "But the only ship in port, and the last to leave before the war started, was a pirate ship. I almost didn't get away from them."

"Pirates?" I laughed. I thought he was joking. He wasn't.

"Indeed. The captain was a woman. Not a very nice woman at that. Do you know what she asked as payment for my passage to Kirkwall?" I shrugged, and he went on, "She demanded that I…" He cleared his throat, flushed scarlet, and finished, …well, that I… service her. In her cabin."

"What did you do?" I asked, barely able to hold back laughter. Sebastian had gone from wild to prudish a few short chantry lessons. "Did you pay your passage? And if so, have you been to a healer since then? I'd heartily recommend it."

"No! Maker, I would sooner drown than be alone in a room with that…person," he said. "I told her no deal and I jumped ship. Better to take my chances with the darkspawn."

"Was the captain's name Isabela, by any chance?"

"You know her? Sweet Andraste, Winter, how did you get involved with such an unruly lot?"

"I know of her. I never met her and didn't care to make her acquaintance. Anyone who had the means to help but ran like a coward wasn't worth my time."

We sat and talked for the better part of an hour. He still wanted me to return to Starkhaven, and again he mentioned marriage—the non-chaste version. I laid out the reasons why a marriage between us wouldn't work. Not counting the fact that I didn't love him any more (and I was sure his feelings for me had changed as well), our religious difference was the chief obstacle. I would never change my mind about Andraste's role, and he wouldn't change his. Then there was the problem of his vows, and his guilt over abandoning them. Would he ask Andraste's forgiveness every time he made love? What woman would put up with such an insult? He belonged in the chantry, and nothing would convince me that he wouldn't return to it after he got some justice for his family's murder.

"I have to admit you're not the woman I knew before," he said. "Not that you haven't done things that few men could have accomplished, but…" He trailed off and left his thought unfinished.

"This bothers you, does it?" Too bad if it did. He had chosen his path and I'd chosen mine. I didn't hold his choices against him or berate him for being double-minded, wavering between his dedication to the chantry and his duty to carry on the Vael line.

"No! I didn't mean to imply that. You truly are a hero, Winter. You didn't hesitate to take on a dragon—a dragon, for Andraste's sake! What I mean is that you would have made your father proud. It's more than I can say for myself."

"Three dragons, actually. You weren't here for the first two."

"Maker…"

I rose from my chair, signaling the conversation had run its course and I needed to be on my way. "Speaking of the Maker, it's time I get on with my duties and you get back to your chantry or your court or… whatever you plan to do."

"Have you lost your faith in the Maker altogether?" he asked sadly. "You use His name blithely."

He's preaching at me? Again? He can call himself 'prince' but he's still a chantry brother.

"I haven't lost my faith. I think some of the lore that's been passed down through the generations has been changed, and some of the truth lost. I find it hard to believe that a loving Maker would give up and abandon his creation." I noted his look of disapproval and dropped the matter. "I'm glad you didn't go before I had the chance to thank you for helping in the battle. Your assistance and your skills were sorely needed, and as I've said, your timing was perfect. And thank you for staying with me afterwards. I probably owe you my life several times over."

"Not at all," he smiled (my sins from the past minutes forgiven). "I hope you'll rethink your plans and return to Starkhaven. Your home is there, as is your birthright. I've no doubt King Alistair has a large enough court to see to his country's needs. Your duty to the people of Starkhaven should take priority over your duties here in Ferelden."

Is he kidding? I'm not touching that one. Old history, water under the bridge, etc.

We said our goodbyes on a cordial note with empty promises to stay in touch, then I put the meeting out of my mind and went back to the stables. Aiden wasn't as put off as I thought he would have been. I'd left him out there waiting for a long while, but he amused himself by riding every single horse in the royal stables, making a show of surveying the city, with Alduin trotting alongside him.

"How about we take a couple more?" he suggested. "You know, a mare and a spare?"

"Let's not leave the king's stables empty," I answered, ignoring his lame joke. "We have enough for now."

Part 2 - Revelations

Aiden noticed the company of soldiers heading toward Amaranthine. They were heavily armed and armored as if marching to battle. From their pace and demeanor, he knew something was up, but he didn't point it out to Winter. It was surprising she didn't notice it herself, but then she seemed to be wrapped up in a daydream. He had a feeling he knew why, and about whom. He'd planned to ask to her about the whole marquess thing, but this was a juicier topic for the present.

"What's the story with you and that old guy?" he asked.

She looked round at him and blinked. "What? Who? What 'old guy' are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me," he razzed her. "That bann or arl, whatever he is. That Teagan fellow."

"Oh," she answered, having difficulty keeping the smile from her face. The corners of her mouth twitched. Aiden was an observant fellow. He knew by her expression that he'd hit paydirt.

"I see how it is," he grinned. "That explains a lot, you know. I tried to get you and Alistair together for months, but you weren't having it. Now I see why. You have a thing for older men."

"That's not true!" she protested. "I was always fond of Alistair."

"There's fondness, then there's real fondness. Something's going on with you and Teagan."

She slowed her horse and turned on him. "Did I ever ask you to tell me about your affair with Morrigan? No, I didn't. Because it was a personal matter between the two of you. You would do well to show others the same courtesy."

At the mention of Morrigan's name, Aiden's curiosity was subdued. He had tried not to think of her but the memories came back. First the good memories. He remembered how he had to work to get her to like him, but he thought it a worthy pursuit. She was passionate, imaginative, intelligent (which was a pleasant surprise, considering she had spent her entire life in a rundown hut in the swamp with nobody but her mother to educate her), and without question the most beautiful, sexy woman he'd ever known. She'd told him she loved him, and her actions convinced him it was so.

Still, she didn't waste time filling her bed with someone else when he had to leave for a while. He was only gone a couple of weeks, but she refused to wait for him. Her betrayal was bad enough, but turning to the one man he trusted most—Alistair, the virgin bastard prince—was an added twist of the knife. Why did it have to be him? Morrigan was knowledgeable in the art of physical love. Alistair was inexperienced, blushing and stammering every time the subject of sex came up in conversation. He probably didn't have the imagination to have given her the kind of pleasures she sought. Zevran was willing to have a go with anyone, including me, he thought with a grimace of disgust. Why didn't she choose him if she needed to be 'serviced' so badly? Her flirtation with Sten had been entertaining for a while, the source of many a good joke, but in the end, she managed to provoke even the indifferent Qunari to lust.

Why was I so stupid? She was a temptress, a tease, and when all was revealed, a tramp.

His companions had been right about her all along, but he was too blinded by love and desire to see the truth. Morrigan was a witch of the same caliber as Flemeth. Whether or not she were really human or a demonic being wearing an alluring suit of human flesh, she had powers beyond anything a normal mage possessed. He had been present when Winter fought Flemeth for the grimoire, and saw for himself when the witch turned into a high dragon. How much different was Morrigan from her mother? He saw when Alistair ran her through with his sword, and how her body vanished. He saw the raven that formed from her last breath. Nothing about her was as it seemed. Even the love she'd claimed to have for him was an illusion.

"I'm sorry. That was unnecessarily harsh," Winter said, misjudging the cause of his silence.

"No, you were right."

She stopped her horse. They were in a clearing by the Hafter River, southwest of Amaranthine.

"Let's make camp here for the night." They hadn't traveled as far as she would have liked, but she was weary and needed to rest. Not only that, though; she thought Aiden might want to talk. His manner had changed, and there was more to it than her mild reprimand could have caused. He was troubled.

They set up two tents in silence, each in their own thoughts. He, stewing over Morrigan's betrayal and Alistair's deception. She, wondering why the king had sent soldiers to Amaranthine while sending her on this pointless survey mission.

When they'd passed the troops, she was planning ahead to her stop at Redcliffe. There were many miles, several towns, and a few weeks between now and then, but she looked forward to seeing Teagan again. Or "that old man," as Aiden put it. The recollection amused her. Teagan might have been forty or forty-one years old, but there was nothing old about him. Thinking of him distracted her once more from the soldiers and their purposeful march.

Aiden had finished with his tent, made a fire, and started dinner. Their provisions were sparse, as they'd planned to hunt for wild game, going on the assumption that the towns and villages along their route were suffering from a lack of food and shelter and could offer them nothing. The horde had left its mark everywhere they went. Aiden didn't bother to try to hunt game. He was still brooding, which was out of character for Winter's buoyant friend.

They sat on the ground, eating a flavorless stew, when Winter initiated conversation. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

"Not really," he replied.

Another first for him, and not a good sign, she thought.

"Okay then, I'll start, if you care to listen." He shrugged, and she told him about her background in Starkhaven, her betrothal to Sebastian, her parents' murder, and all the events that led up to her being exiled from her country. While she told her story, he moved from politely attentive to fully engrossed. All the questions about her past that had piqued his curiosity were answered.

"I wouldn't have guessed," he said when she'd finished. "Of all the theories I'd pondered, none came close to the truth. I'm sorry for what you went through, and sorry that you had to go it alone. We shared similar tragedies. I wish I'd been a better friend."

She answered, "Fool that I was, it was my decision to keep everyone at a distance. I was angry and bitter, and I hardened my heart. I thought that was how I had to be to keep from being used and hurt. But it was all a façade. Inside, I was lonely and miserable." She surprised herself with the last admission; she was making herself vulnerable again. She continued, "I overheard you and Alistair talking about your family, and I've felt a bond of empathy with you since then, even if I didn't express it. We'd both lost everything, and by an ironic turn of events, we survived it and ended up as Grey Wardens."

"Possibly not my best judgment call," he sighed, "but it seemed I could do more good as a warden than as a teyrn."

"Do you regret becoming a warden now that Fergus has returned?"

He thought on it, then answered, "Truthfully? No. I think being a warden was my fate, you know? It's like I was born for this purpose, to this destiny. Does that sound crazy?"

Winter gave a snort of amusement. "If so, we're equally crazy."

We reached Highever the following afternoon. The land didn't show many signs of damage; if anything, it was the most intact area we'd seen thus far. People went about their lives as if the country hadn't been on the edge of annihilation just six days earlier.

Cousland Castle was built on a coastal hill overlooking the Waking Sea to its north, and the city of Highever to its south. It was as much a fortress as Redcliffe Castle, but larger, surrounded by high, thick stone walls that were once patrolled by the Cousland's many guards. Today, its walls were empty, giving silent witness to the slaughter that had occurred here before the blight.

Fergus greeted us when we entered the main doors. "You're the Hero of Ferelden, I take it? I thought you'd be taller. Older. And a lot more male." He was a friendly man, as playful as Aiden, but the atmosphere dampened everyone's spirits. After a short chat, he returned to a room near the entrance. He walked with a noticeable limp, and Aiden confided that he would probably not recover from it completely.

I should bring Anders here. He could heal him better than any Chaisnd barbarians could.

"I'll show you around if you like, but we won't be going to the family quarters upstairs. There are guest rooms in the front of the castle," he said. "That's where Fergus and I have been staying until the rest of the castle is repaired. I'll double up with him and you can have the spare room."

Inside the castle, the odors of burned wood and cleaning solutions permeated the air. A work crew was hauling out all the damaged and ruined furniture, and household servants were on hands and knees scrubbing at the ominous dark stains that marred the stone floors.

"That blighted bastard Howe wanted the place left just as it was after he killed my family," Aiden snarled. "He had the bodies dragged out and left on the castle grounds, but wouldn't suffer anyone to clean up the blood that marked where my parents died. Those were his trophies."

We entered the main hall. Judging by the damage, it was the site of a terrible battle. "Ser Gilmore died here, trying to prevent Howe's men from coming in," he said, pointing to a large stain near the door. "He was Father's senior knight, and it was he that Duncan had come to recruit when Howe's men attacked."

"Duncan was here when your parents were killed?" I asked. I'd never heard the details of Aiden's recruitment. He related the story to me as we toured the rest of the rooms. If not for Duncan, Aiden would have died trying to protect his parents. His sister Alyssa was killed first. He tried to get to her room to help her, but Howe's men had already entered the family quarters and murdered her in her sleep.

Thank the Maker! Now I know for sure that Howe lied about abusing the poor girl.

"I'm deeply sorry," I said, knowing the words were inadequate but not knowing what else to say.

"It was a merciful end for her. The only mercy anyone showed that night," he continued. "Maybe one of Howe's men was less of a beast than the rest. Alyssa was stabbed through the heart and she died instantly. She was spared the horror the rest of us saw."

"I've seen enough," I said after he showed me the larder where his parents died. It was a sharp reminder of my own parents' deaths, and I didn't want Aiden having to relive the memories of losing his family. The Maker had been kinder to me; I was away from home when the intruders killed my parents. Aiden was in the thick of it, seeing and hearing everything.

The three of us shared a modest dinner. No one was very hungry and all of us were fatigued. The two men, I imagined, were more emotionally drained than physically tired. Fergus retired first, leaving Aiden and me alone to talk more.

"Tell me about Morrigan," I started bluntly. "Did she ever give you any indication that she had a personal agenda, and she wasn't just there to help out with her magic, as Felmeth told us?"

"Not a word," he answered. "I was as taken in by her… No, that's a gross understatement. She was the consummate seductress and deceiver. If she hadn't sucked me in with her looks and her scanty clothing, she would have found other ways. She was so beautiful…" He trailed off wistfully.

"And now? How do you feel about her?" I pressed.

"What does it matter? She's dead. I can't say I mourn for her, nor can I say it will be easy to forget her."

I wasn't convinced she was dead. We all saw that raven, and he'd seen Flemeth as a dragon. With the tales of the immortal swamp witch so prevalent around Thedas, I didn't fully believe Flemeth was dead either. "What happened between you two? By that I mean, why did she turn against you when you left to see about Fergus?"

"I can't fathom why she got so angry about it. True, she and Flemeth didn't exactly share your average mother-daughter closeness, but for her to have no compassion whatsoever, and not to be happy for my sake that one member of my family survived… She was adamant that I stay and let friends or strangers care for Fergus. As if, after receiving the best news I'd heard since I survived the joining, I would nonchalantly go about my way…"

"She didn't understand relationships," I supplied. "She told me as much during one of our talks. She knew enough of male-female relationships to manipulate them as it suited her. But family ties and friendships were foreign to her."

"Yes. I have to wonder if she'd been manipulating Alistair all along," he said. His tone was bitter.

"I've wondered that myself, but I don't believe it's the case." The revelation had just come to me as we were talking. "You were the one she wanted all along. When you left, it disrupted her newly-realized sense of companionship or…" A thought occurred that hadn't seemed to fit before. "Or her plan to get pregnant, for whatever purpose, was thwarted. She had to have a replacement, and she went for the most gullible man in our party."

"That makes no sense," he answered. "I had broached the subject of marriage with her but she shut me down cold. She told me flat out that after the blight was put down, she would leave and I'd never see her again. I couldn't accept it because I was convinced she loved me and would change her mind. Besides, why would she want to leave pregnant?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Let me ask you something, since we're intent on self-flagellation. You and Alistair were close, weren't you?" I told him I thought we were, and he went on, "So how long do you think he went about lying to us, pretending he didn't have designs on Morrigan?"

Maybe it wasn't the wisest idea, but I told him about what I'd overheard outside Alistair's door at Redcliffe Castle the night before we left for the final battle. It was my opinion (now, not back then) that it was the first and only time they slept together.

"From what you say, it was Morrigan who initiated it," he commented thoughtfully. "Not that it comes as a great shock, recalling how venomous she was when I left. If that's the case, and if it's true that pregnancy was her ultimate goal, Alistair was the only man in our party—human man, that is—who could have impregnated her. My question then would be how could she have known for a certainty that conception would occur?"

The answer hit us and we said in unison, "Blood magic." He added, "Son of a bitch." I concurred.

"Have you and Alistair talked it over?" he wanted to know.

"No. I don't want to know why he slept with her. I don't care. It's over and it's between him and his conscience."

"And you've moved on, as I've seen," he added, referring to Teagan. We had come full circle. His line of conversation started with his probing about my relationship with Teagan, and that's where we ended.

"As has he," I remarked. "He's got a kingdom to deal with now. And I have my own duties."

"And a new man, let's not forget." The brooding Aiden was gone, replaced by the one I knew best.

I gave him a rascally wink. "I'm not likely to forget that part." Rising from the table, I announced that I was going to bed.

"Just like that? You're not going to tell me all about your new love and what plans you two have? He's a fine fellow, but he's rather old for you, don't you think? I mean, I like the guy, don't get me wrong. He's a gentleman. Well, maybe not entirely a gentleman, eh? By your sneaky smile, I'd say not. If that's what you were looking for in a man, there are some older codgers out there that might suit you. How about his brother Eamon? He's a lot older, he's single again, and wouldn't it burn Alistair's arse for you to be involved with his chancellor? Right there in the royal palace? I would pay to see the look on his face."

"Good night, Aiden." I closed my door and left him with his nosy questions and outlandish ideas.