Grand Tour of Ferelden

Part 1 – "In Death, Sacrifice"

"Fourteen Orlesian wardens, dead? How in the Maker's name were they caught unaware? Didn't anyone sense darkspawn? Not even one of them?" King Alistair demanded answers, but no one knew how the darkspawn had been able to infiltrate and overtake the Vigil undetected. The seneschal was no Grey Warden. He and the few survivors were ordinary men without the taint.

Seneschal Varel's tone was apologetic. "Your Majesty, we are still investigating the incident, but from what we've discovered so far, it appears the darkspawn came from inside the Vigil."

"Inside? How is that possible?" Alistair asked. "This keep should have been secure. Where were the wardens when the attack started?"

"They had only just arrived. They were killed as soon as they entered the courtyard. Before we knew what was happening, all the wardens and most of my officers were dead, Majesty," Varel answered. "The darkspawn were organized. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. They systematically killed off our people starting with the most skilled fighters—the wardens. The few soldiers that remain are those with little combat experience, but they were able to elude the monsters."

"They hid, in other words. Maybe for the best," Alistair admitted. "Organized darkspawn. That's a first."

"Indeed," Varel said. "One of the darkspawn… This is almost too much to believe, but it spoke."

Alistair scoffed. "Talking darkspawn. Right."

"Sire, I heard it myself. It would have killed me if your man there hadn't shown up in time." He indicated Ser Bryant, newly reassigned to the Vigil to watch over the Orlesian warden mages.

"Good work, Ser Bryant," Alistair commended the templar. "Seeing as there are no mages here, do you want to return to your post at the Circle or wait for the new warden-commander to arrive? She should be here in a few weeks, and she'll need to replenish her numbers. There might be mages among them."

"Whatever Your Majesty wills," Ser Bryant answered. "If I'm not needed at the Circle, I would be honored to serve with the new warden-commander."

"Mages or no, he's needed here, Majesty," Eamon opined. "As it stands, Ser Bryant and Captain Garavel are the only two seasoned warriors aside from the seneschal. The warden-commander will need able fighters until she can recruit more wardens."

"Agreed," Alistair said. "I sense no darkspawn here now, so I'll take my leave. Seneschal Varel, keep looking into the matter and find the source of the attack. If the darkspawn came from within the keep, find the source and close it off."

The king and his entourage departed, leaving Varel and his small band to pick through the rubble, remove the bodies—the parts the darkspawn hadn't eaten—and burn them. With so few survivors and so many dead, they'd likely not finish their work before the warden-commander arrived. Varel hoped she would arrive soon. They sorely needed her leadership.

His captain asked, "Who is the warden-commander? Another Orlesian warden? They failed us in this battle. How much better can one more Orlesian fare against these new darkspawn?"

"No, Garavel. She's not an Orlesian. She's a Marcher, and she's the Hero of Ferelden."

"You're serious? I thought the Hero of Ferelden was… well, a Fereldan. And a man."

Part 2 – Ooh Baby Baby

Aiden and I left Highever after a few days' visit with Fergus. The brothers needed some family time together since Aiden was to accompany me to Vigil's Keep. From there, we went to Waking Sea, then made an unscheduled stop in Orzammar before traveling southeast until we reached the Imperial Highway. We followed the well-traveled path southward. Every locale we visited was virtually unaffected by the blight and the war. It became increasingly evident that I'd been sent on this errand to keep me away from the Vigil. The knowledge angered me, but I didn't mention it to Aiden. I intended to take it up with Alistair when we next met.

"When are we going to get that new recruit you mentioned?" Aiden asked. He'd been asking every day since we left Denerim, now three weeks past. My answer was the same.

"In good time."

"Come on, Winter. Why is it such a secret? You won't tell me who it is or where we're going to find them?"

"We'll meet them in Lake Calenhad," I answered. It was the first bit of information I'd given him, and he ran with it.

"Maker's curdled blood, you're talking about that nasty dwarf, aren't you? He's the only one in Lake Calenhad besides the tavern keeper, his wife, and the boatman. The town has a population of three, and he makes it four. Or three and a half. Maybe an even four if you throw in his dwarf girlfriend. Anyway, I thought we were rid of Oghren." His babbling never failed to amuse me.

"Didn't you like our pet dwarf?" I teased.

Aiden was put off, as his annoyed tone indicated. "No, I didn't like him. He stank like stale piss, he had the table manners of a half-wit hurlock, and he belched more than he talked. Or maybe I couldn't distinguish between the sound of his voice and his belches. Either way, his breath was so foul that he drove the animals away from camp. I had to walk a few extra miles each time I went out to hunt."

It was nearly impossible not to burst out laughing. Unfortunately, though Oghren was a strong, fearless warrior, he was difficult to tolerate. I agreed with most of what Aiden said. Oghren was a dirty little man, and I mean that in both senses of the word; he was physically unwashed, and he had no sense of propriety around others. His ill manners were matched by his inappropriate jests and comments—all of them sexual in nature. Even Zevran found him repugnant, and Zev was our resident pervert before Oghren joined us.

"We'll manage somehow," I said, smiling on the inside but keeping my expression neutral. My reassurances didn't reassure Aiden at all. He continued to scowl.

By the time we arrived in Rainesfere the seasons were changing. Summer was at an end and the leaves colored the land with lively shades of gold and red. The north breeze carried a hint of colder days to come, and more so when we rode along the edge of the lake. We stopped at Teagan's manor for a couple of days' rest. Teagan's steward welcomed us like royalty, and we were treated to the same hospitality that Alistair and I enjoyed on our visits there. Even in Teagan's absence, the household ran as smoothly as if he were to arrive any minute. The well-trained staff provided us with baths and beds, cozy fires, sumptuous meals, and clean clothes. Our armor was taken to an armor smith in town, and was returned to us cleaned and repaired. The town's weapon smith visited the house with his tools, once the steward learned that neither of us was willing to part with our blades or bow. Aiden's bow was restrung and our swords and daggers were sharpened. The smiths did excellent work. Our equipment was like new.

As with everyone who visited Rainesfere, Aiden found the region serene and picturesque. He spent hours by the lake with his hound, sitting and looking across the water or walking along the shore with Alduin bounding ahead of him. I spent most of the time in my suite. The long ride had turned out to be more taxing than I'd expected, and again I recalled Anders' advice that I rest for at least two weeks. It had been nearly a month since the battle with the archdemon, and still I didn't feel like I'd recovered. In addition to bouts of fatigue, I'd developed a tender stomach. Foods that were once my favorites no longer agreed with me. Scents that were usually pleasing made me queasy. I wrote it off to the rich fare we'd been consuming, and asked for a lighter, blander diet.

After three days we left Rainesfere for the last stop on my list—Redcliffe. My stomach was still sensitive, and I nearly lost my breakfast when the smell of the horses assailed my nostrils. One consolation was that it wasn't constant nausea but came in short spells, then I'd feel fine for the rest of the day. Until dinnertime, when it would hit again. Or if I detected a disagreeable odor, like now. I battled back the urge to vomit, holding a hand over my mouth and nose, turning away from the stables and stepping into the fresh air. Still, the overwhelming stench of horse sweat, urine, and feces made me gag. I'd smelled the foulness of darkspawn without a reaction. They stank like rotted corpses and worse. It was an unnatural stench. But even when I was drenched in their blood, as repugnant as that was, it didn't nauseate me. Not like this.

"Winter, are you ill?" Aiden asked. "You're pale, you've lost enough weight that your armor is loose, and you have no appetite." He peered at me more closely. "You're perspiring. Are you feverish? Should we turn back and find a healer in Rainesfere?"

"I'm okay," I lied. "It's probably the rich food that isn't setting well with me after so many months of scrounging whatever we could find."

"If you say so," he replied doubtfully. "But if you need to stop and rest, don't push on trying to live up to your big fancy 'Hero of Ferelden' title."

"Smartarse," I shot back.

"And this is news to you?" he grinned.

Part 3 – What Happens in Redcliffe Stays in Redcliffe

Most of the village of Redcliffe was under repair. Weeks ago my party had arrived in time to kill the darkspawn before they burned it as thoroughly as they'd done Lothering, but there were months of work to be done before the town could return to its pre-war condition. On this visit, I was relieved to learn that most of the townsfolk had survived the attack, having taken shelter in the chantry and in the tavern's basement. Mayor Murdock stood in the village square, just as he had when we'd first come to Redcliffe a year earlier. He directed work crews and ordered more lumber and stone to be brought in. Housing was his first priority, followed by some minor repairs to the chantry and reopening the village general goods store. He recognized me.

"You folks here to help, or just dropping by to see the arl?" he growled in his gruff, no-nonsense manner. "If you're here to help, grab a couple of hammers and make yourselves useful."

"Thank you, but we're not here to help with reconstruction," I said, peeved at his presumptuous attitude. "We've come to see the arl."

"He was here earlier this morning, but I think he's gone back to the castle," Murdock said, dismissing us.

Aiden complained, "He must be one damned good mayor if people put up with his pushiness. He's a coarse bastard."

"Forget him," I said. "He's not our problem. Let's go to the castle."

"As you wish, Your Ladyship," he said with a mocking bow, letting me know he hadn't forgotten my useless Starkhaven title. "If you're a marquess, doesn't that mean you outrank your arl boyfriend? For that matter, I outrank him myself even if I'm not officially the teyrn of Highever. You have no siblings to contend with, and only that prissy prince between you and the throne of Starkhaven. So tell me, do you think this old gent will try to marry you so he can move up in status? That's what I would do if I were in his place. I should propose now and beat him to it."

"Yes, you would do something that underhanded," I answered, playing along. "But remember, I know you too well. Your smooth talk and good looks don't work on me."

"You finally admit I'm good-looking! But alas, I'm much too young for your tastes."

"Enough of that," I scolded good-naturedly. We'd reached the castle doors, and I didn't want his rude banter to reach Teagan's ears.

We were welcomed by the steward and brought to the room I remembered as Eamon's study. Teagan had changed the décor, turning the former study into a sitting room. He'd wasted no time making the castle his own.

Probably to remove any trace that Isolde ever lived here.

Before we had a chance to sit, Teagan came in. He looked more handsome than I remembered, and that was saying a lot. First he greeted Aiden, shaking hands with him and asking after his brother's health. Then he turned his full attention to me.

"I thought you'd never get here," he said, taking me in his arms. We kissed briefly, more than a friendly greeting but not with our usual passion. Our display of affection might have made Aiden uncomfortable, but if so he didn't let on. Instead, he found a seat at the far end of the room and picked up a book, reading or pretending to, and most likely gathering fodder for the gossip, prying questions, and playful taunts that were sure to come later.

It occurred to me that the last time I was in this castle, Teagan and I became lovers. The memory didn't distress me. Quite the opposite. I wondered if he held the recollection as dearly as I did. From his warm welcome and attentiveness, it appeared he hadn't forgotten a moment of it.

Aiden's favorite hobby was watching people. Not that he learned anything worthwhile from it; his parents had taught him everything that was important in life—family, loyalty, truthfulness, honor, and his formidable fighting skills. But as commendable as those things were, it left a fellow bored. He'd started out observing his little sister's growing crush on the sissy noble boy Dairren. Alyssa was a feisty girl and well able to hold her own in an argument, but whenever the name 'Dairren' was mentioned, she melted like hot wax. Fergus and Aiden found nearly endless amusement at their sister's expense—all in fun, of course. They loved their "runt of the litter".

Today, he observed how Winter and Arl Teagan behaved around each other. His standoffish leader had evolved over the past months into a friendly, fun-loving, kind-hearted woman. Seeing how she gave the arl those doe-eyed glances and coquettish smiles, Aiden hadn't a doubt that she was in love with him. Deny it or avoid the subject as she might, the evidence was clear. After the men had exchanged pleasantries, the arl turned to Winter and his tone and demeanor changed from cordial to downright sappy. Teagan adored Winter. And why shouldn't he? Teagan would be a blessed man if he snagged a prize like her. Hell, any man would, for that matter.

Aiden wished he'd been attracted to her instead of Morrigan. Winter was easily as lovely, but her beauty was of a wholesome sort, not unabashedly seductive like Morrigan's. She carried herself without haughtiness, but she'd been so aloof, not mingling with the others, that his attention was pulled toward the swamp witch's siren song. He answered the call, and what did it get him? Not so much a broken heart as a battered ego. In spite of himself, he still thought of her from time to time, and despite the anger, good memories lingered. They were quickly dampened by his recollection of her devious, manipulative ways, and finally, her faithlessness.

"The stories of Grey Warden endurance are true," he mocked bitterly under his breath, doing a poor imitation of her voice, quoting the line she'd given him after their first romp.

Maker curse that wretched bitch.

"I'm sorry, Aiden, did you say something?" Winter was looking at him with her still-gooey smile and her eyebrows raised questioningly.

He laughed at himself. "No, boss. I was thinking out loud."

"Okay, but be careful with that. I don't want new recruits thinking all we wardens are mental."

"Aren't we?" he countered, eliciting chuckles from her and her beau.

Winter went back to her conversation with Teagan. The two ogled each other like love-struck adolescents. He'd probably been much like that when he was around Morrigan. The difference here was that these were two normal people sharing deep, honest affection. He was happy for her. After hearing of her life before she became a Grey Warden, he believed that if anyone had earned a shot at happiness, it was Winter.

"I wish you'd sent word ahead that you were just hours away," Teagan said to the two of them. "I would have made preparations for your arrival. The cooks have started dinner but it won't be ready for a while yet. If I'd known you were coming today, I'd have had them set to work earlier so you wouldn't be inconvenienced by having to wait."

"Are you trying to rush us out of here, Arl Teagan?" Aiden smiled.

"Furthest thing from my mind," Teagan answered. "You are always welcome here, for as long as you wish. My home is at your disposal." A servant scurried in, whispered to the arl, and fled as if her skirts were on fire. "Your rooms are ready if you'd like to rest or freshen up after your trip."

The ride from Rainesfere was only a few hours on horseback, but Aiden was ready for a nap. Winter, being the high-born lady that she was, would jump at any chance to have a bath. He remembered how she was the first one to the waterfall every time they returned from an outing or a battle. Our spoiled little marquess, he thought with an inner grin.

"The servants will show you to your suites," Teagan continued. "Please, let one of the staff or my steward know if you need or desire anything."

Aiden's suite was on the third floor. It was larger than his parent's suite at Cousland Castle, and it contained everything he needed for his comfort, including a change of clothing—a nobleman's suit, no less. There was water for washing, still steaming. The bath could wait. He took off his weapons and laid them aside, then fell onto the bed in his armor. He was asleep in minutes.

Teagan told the servant he would escort her personally, and the girl curtsied and went back to her duties. They went up the ramp to what Winter remembered as the family quarters, and ended in Eamon's old suite. Like the study, it had been redecorated.

"This is lovely," she remarked, "but this is your room, not mine."

"I was hoping you would consent to share it with me," he said. "I've waited for weeks to be alone with you again. My feelings for you haven't changed, except to grow stronger and deeper."

"I can't," she whispered, with a heavy dose of regret. His crestfallen countenance evoked a pang of guilt. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. His embrace was like steel, his strong arms locking her body against his. Their kisses became deeper, more passionate. She had to pull back or there would be no stopping it. As much as she wanted to continue, the timing had to be right. She didn't want their intimacy devalued to a primitive reaction to pleasurable, physical stimuli.

"I cannot fault you for your integrity, but I do wish you would reconsider. You know that I love you. My intent is not to bring you shame, but to cherish you."

"Teagan, dearest… I have thought of you often, and with great fondness. But I'm not ready to put my relationships up for public scrutiny and gossip. If I spent the night with you in your suite, we would be the subject of crude talk and jests. I'm sure you don't want that any more than I do. It's best if I go to my own room," she said, but her arms were still around his neck. She kissed him again, lightly, meaning it to be a parting kiss. "Alright. Wait. One more kiss and then I'll go."

Teagan chuckled. "Just one? I have a limitless supply of them."

"Don't tempt me."

"That's exactly what I hope to do, dear warden."

"Fine, have it your way."

"Be careful what you ask for," he warned playfully. He kissed her again and again, nibbling her lips, exploring her mouth, relishing her response. He was long past the point of no return, but at her bidding, he would go. Uncomfortably. Achingly.

Something in her manner had changed. The last time they were together intimately, she was in emotional pain, her mien somber. A minute ago she was all seriousness and logic. Now, she was kittenish and seductive. He liked this aspect of her personality.

"Now that you've stolen my heart, what else do you have in mind?" he ventured.

She pretended to consider his question. "Hmm, I don't rightly know. I could steal your suite, I suppose. It's bigger than mine."

"It's yours for the taking," he replied, meaning it.

"And the occupant of said suite?" she asked.

His mouth went dry. "Also yours for the taking," he rasped.

She giggled. "I meant, what will the occupant do if I steal his suite?"

"He will sleep by the door like a devoted mabari."

"There's no need for that," she purred, taking his hands and walking him toward the bed. His heart hammered wildly. She stopped just short of the bed and pointed to the rug beside it. "You can sleep here."

"Impudent minx."

The passion between us was a force that couldn't be contained. If we were alone together, it took over and made us its helpless—and infinitely delighted—victims. We lay in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets, much like we'd done a month earlier, but this time was different for me. The last time we had made love, I felt a deep closeness, absolute physical gratification, and the warmth of something more than mere friendship. This time, I was happy. Truly, genuinely happy. I lay with my head on his chest, as I'd done before. He stroked my hair with one hand, and his other arm held me fast against him.

"I've missed you," I admitted.

"Yes, I could tell as much," he answered glibly. My sharp intake of breath provoked soft laughter from him. "I'm teasing you, beloved. I've missed you terribly as well. If I had my way, you wouldn't leave here again."

"If only that were possible," I sighed.

"Meaning?"

I'd said too much, and I tried to talk my way around it with nonsensical babble. "Meaning that I'm very fond of you, and Rainesfere is a lovely place, and one could make a home here…"

"We're in Redcliffe, darling."

"Yes, that's what I meant. Redcliffe is a… Redcliffe is…" Redcliffe was in a sorry state of disrepair. Hardly a lover's paradise.

"Redcliffe is where I am; that's what you meant to say."

I scowled. "How have I never noticed that you're an arrogant man?"

"I'm not arrogant," he said, abandoning his flippant tone. "I happen to be in love with you, and I'm hoping your misspoken slips are a reflection of what you feel for me. If I express myself in jest, it's only because I fear I might be wrong." He turned on his side, facing me. "Am I fooling myself, getting my hopes impossibly high? Tell me truly, Winter; am I wrong about your feelings for me?"

What sense is there in pretending, and denying myself a chance at happiness?

His earnestness drew the truth out of me. "No, you're not wrong. I love you."

"I hardly allowed myself to dream this could be possible."

We lay together for a while longer, basking in the joyous revelation of our mutual love. After a time, I commented that it wouldn't be proper for word to get out that we'd shared a room. "I would be embarrassed if I were caught here."

"Embarrassed? No need for that." To demonstrate his total lack of concern for what others thought, he rose (stark naked) and walked over to where his clothes lay piled on the floor. He was comfortable in my presence, I had to say. And no reason for him not to be. His physique was as well-formed as that of a man half his age. "We'll tell them we're pledged to each other," he said, pulling on his breeches. His nonchalant air almost convinced me it was true. Almost.

"Pledged? You mean betrothed? But we're not."

He returned to me and took my face in his hands. "We could be, if you're willing. We love each other, Winter. What is to prevent us from marrying? I want you to be my wife."

Maker's blood, hurting him is going to tear my heart out.

"Teagan, my love, I can't marry. I'm a Grey Warden. I've given my life to the order, and there's no turning back once a person joins."

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "It's the wardens, not the chantry. Surely there are married wardens. Do you think King Alistair won't take a wife and produce an heir, as is expected of every monarch? Wasn't he a warden like you? Now he's left the wardens to take his place as king."

"Yes, he was a warden. When he accepted the throne, his role changed…"

"And so can yours if you wish it."

He was wrong. The wardens expected every recruit to stay true to the order until death. While it was a fact that some had left, I'd always considered them equal to deserters. But I couldn't reveal my feelings for him and immediately break his heart. "Let me… think on this for a while. It was unexpected. Before I can consider your offer, I have to report to Vigil's Keep and—"

"No! Not the Vigil," he cut in. He had an anxious look. "Not until you hear from the king."

I extricated myself from his embrace and sat up, holding the bedsheet to my chest. "What is going on at the Vigil? If I'm the warden-commander, why am I the only one being kept in the dark? Is it my new post or isn't it?"

"I've heard nothing to the contrary." His answer was irritatingly guarded.

"Nor have I," I groused. "And I'll tell you this. If word doesn't come from Denerim soon, I'll go to Amaranthine and find out for myself what all the mystery is about."

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Why? What's the big secret?"

"The king is awaiting your report…"

"My report," I scoffed. I was becoming angrier by the minute, and Teagan was bearing the brunt of my wrath—unfairly, I might add. "A bogus report about a needless tour of the safest parts of Ferelden. What kind of assignment is that?"

"One that the king thought was necessary," he reasoned. "When you report back to him, you can ask him his reasons for the tour if you wish. I for one don't regret that your assignment brought you here."

Andraste's butt crack, why does he make me feel so guilty?

"You're right. I'll see him soon enough, and you can be sure I will ask him about this waste of time."

"Not a complete waste, I hope."

"Stop fishing for compliments," I said, but the anger was gone. He had a knack for cheering me.

"I don't know about you, but I've worked up an appetite." He gazed at me with a sly smile. "As fetching as you look, my love, may I suggest you wear something less… revealing… to dinner?"

Aiden looked well-rested and right at home in his noble clothing. He was a handsome man. Small wonder that Morrigan set her sights on him from the start. I did have to wonder, though, how she put up with his personality. She didn't like jokes or fun or general chatting. She was blunt and concise in her speech. Aiden was a talker. He loved to joke at anyone's expense, including his own. He liked to laugh and to make others around him laugh. They were as different as could be, but somehow they'd found love. Temporarily.

Shoving all thought of the witch out of my mind, I sat at dinner with my two favorite fellows—my lover and my surrogate big brother. Aiden kept a steady flow of conversation going, asking Teagan about everything from Ferelden politics to the fishing in Lake Calenhad. I listened, not adding much to their discussion. It wasn't that I found it uninteresting (for the most part). I was fighting back another bout of queasiness, brought on by the aromas of the many rich dishes the cooks had prepared for us.

"My dear, is there something wrong with your dinner?" Teagan asked when he noticed I wasn't eating. "If this isn't to your liking, I can have the cook prepare anything you desire."

Aided piped up. "She's been like this for a week. In camp, I've seen the woman eat anything from wolf chops to nug meat to Korcari rat, and I thought I might have to fight her for my share. Nowadays, she'll hardly eat plain bread."

Teagan looked worried, and I wanted to belt Aiden across his big mouth for telling so much. "Could it be that some of the wild meats you ate made you ill? Maker… it sounds disgusting."

"It was," Aiden agreed. "But there were times we were hungry enough to eat darkspawn if one had wandered into our camp."

That last mental image was more than I could stand. I excused myself from the table, ran up to my suite, and retched until my stomach muscles ached.

What's wrong with me? I was foolish to go against Anders' advice. What if I've caused myself irreparable damage?

Anxiety produced a fresh wave of nausea. I sat next to my chamber pot until it seemed as if we'd developed a kinship. When the queasiness abated, I dragged myself to my bed and lay down. Even though I shivered with a chill while I upchucked, I perspired the whole time. My clothes now clung to my skin uncomfortably. There would be no sleeping like this. I rose and rang for a servant.

"My Lady," a young girl said, coming into my room on quiet, slippered feet. "The arl is most anxious to know of your health."

"Tell the arl I was overtired from travel and I'm resting. I'd like water for a bath, and then I plan to retire for the night."

"Yes m'lady. I'll have the water fetched up to you right away." She bobbed a curtsy and left.

The chill and nausea were gone. Could Teagan have been right about the food we'd eaten in camp causing this? Maybe some of the things we ate was tainted or spoiled. A lot of it sure tasted bad.

Stop it! I can't think about it unless I want to spend the whole night hugging the chamber pot.

The water arrived a while later. In the meantime, I dozed off and awoke feeling much better. My empty stomach rumbled in protest. I'd regained some of my appetite. I asked for a plate of bread and cheese, and a flagon of spiced mead to be brought up to my suite.

"Leave it by the door," I instructed the girl. "I'll fetch it after my bath."

My suite had a beautiful silk screen, three panels wide, that folded out for use and back in for storage. I'd heard of these things but never owned or seen one. If for no other reason than to admire it, I pulled it out and placed it in front of the bath. Then I checked outside in the hallway and found my food on a tray beside the door. I brought it in and devoured it.

Now for my bath. The tub in this suite was about half the size of the average bath, but it was made of polished marble rather than rough stone. Need I tell you that it was a lot kinder to my bare buttocks than scratchy granite? I poured half the water into the tub and sat, letting the half-inch depth soak my hamstrings and little else. I took another ewer, poured some of it on my head, and washed my hair. About that time, I heard someone enter the room.

"Hello? Who's there?" I called out. Probably a servant with poor timing.

I heard some rustling about, but because of my present state of undress, I didn't peek around the screen. Whoever it was, I was sure they'd heard me. It was probably the same young girl, come to check on the linens or turn down the bed. I wasn't unduly worried.

"Would m'lady care for some company?"

Teagan's voice startled me. I looked round and saw him standing next to the screen. He wore a smile. Nothing else.

"Why not? You're appropriately dressed for it."

One might say he took improper liberties. To me, it was a surprising new experience, and one I would gladly repeat with him any time. I was past any pretense of denial. I was in love, really in love. It wasn't infatuation like I'd had for Sebastian or the confused attraction I'd felt for Alistair. Teagan taught me the difference between the three. He made me happy, and if there were a way to leave the wardens, I would do so for him.

Part 4 – Old Friend, New Warden

Aiden and I stayed in Redcliffe for a few days, and while we were there, I received a message from the king. I was to report to Denerim at once, then on to Vigil's Keep. Before we headed to the palace, I had to make the stop in Lake Calenhad. Teagan understood we'd be gaining a new recruit and he gave us one of his horses for our companion.

"Are you sure you don't want a pony instead?" Aiden asked. "Oghren's short legs will never reach the stirrups, and I'm not going to pick the filthy little beast up to put him on his mount."

I repeated what I'd told him before. "We'll manage."

"So you say. You must have a rope ladder hidden somewhere in your pack."

We stopped in at the Spoiled Princess, where I inquired of Felsi, Oghren's girlfriend. She was with child. Oghren's, I assumed, but I wasn't going to be so rude as to ask. I did ask her, though, when she'd last seen Oghren.

"A couple of weeks ago," she said. "As soon as he was healed enough to fight, he took off for Amaranthine."

"Why Amaranthine?" I asked.

"You think he tells me anything?" She was angry with him, either for leaving her alone and pregnant, or just because he was Oghren the ill-mannered oaf. I thanked her for her time and we left the tavern.

"That's a relief," Aiden said. "Maybe he'll change his mind, go back to Orzammar, and we'll be rid of him for good. For now, I don't have to worry about riding downwind of him."

"I need to stop in at the Circle for a minute," I said, too preoccupied to fully enjoy his humor.

"You're going to see that healer? Good idea. You've got everyone worried."

Knight-Commander Cullen greeted us in the entrance hall. "Welcome, Wardens." He bowed to me and added, "And to the Hero of Ferelden. You have our thanks, my lady."

"I've come to see the mage Anders, if you please," I said, getting right to the point.

"Are you in need of a healer, my lady? We have other mages…"

"No thank you. I'd prefer to see Anders. Would you please have him brought down?"

"I'm sorry, Warden…"

"Warden-Commander," I corrected him, using my rank for the first time.

"Warden-Commander, Anders has been locked up in solitary confinement since he was brought back from Denerim. He escaped, as you're aware, and he refuses to accept that he is only safe within the Circle."

"But surely you can bring him out…"

"No," Cullen interrupted. "His sentence is one year, and he's lucky it's not two years since he's already served a year in solitary from a previous escape. Evidently he didn't learn from it."

"Then you have forced my hand, Ser. I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription on the mage Anders, and I demand you bring him out at once."

"You must be joking."

"I've never been more serious, Knight-Commander."

"The First Enchanter will hear of this," Cullen threatened. As if that made any difference. Cullen himself didn't bow to the First Enchanter; did he think I would?

He sent a templar to fetch Anders and another to tell Irving what was going on. Irving was the first to arrive in the hall, and he was angry enough to spit fireballs.

"What do you think you're doing, Warden-Commander?" he growled in his slow, gravelly voice. "Anders is a trouble-maker. The only reason he hasn't been made tranquil is because he passed his harrowing, and I can't legally neutralize him. I ask you to carefully consider your actions."

"The decision is made, First Enchanter. Anders belongs to the Grey Wardens now."

"Then Maker have mercy on you both. You'll need it more than he does."

Anders began protesting as soon as he saw me. "I didn't want to tell them! The king pressed me for answers. They all knew I wasn't telling them everything."

"Who is this 'all'? Besides the king, who did you tell?" I asked, none too gently.

"I don't know who they were. He had two men with him. One was old and bearded, a little younger than old Irving here. The other was younger than him but older than the king."

Not the best descriptions, but I know who he's talking about. Alistair, Eamon, and Teagan. So that's why everyone treated me like a fragile porcelain doll. That's why I was sent all over Ferelden and away from Amaranthine. They expected me to have a nice vacation tour of the country before I went back to my duties.

"We'll deal with that later. That's not why I'm here, Anders. I've conscripted you into the Grey Wardens."

"Really? I'm free of this blighted tower and these templars forever? I'm a Grey Warden now?"

"Not yet. You have to survive the joining first."

Over loud protests and warnings from Cullen and Irving, Aiden and I left with my new recruit.

"I'm sorry, really I am, Warden," Anders said, continuing his apologies. "I know I gave my word, but truth be told, you were endangering your life by going against my recommendation. Your friends were worried for you."

"I kept my promise to you," I pointed out. I wasn't angry with him. Not really. After the way I'd been feeling, between the fatigue and the nausea, I was wrong not to follow his directions. But I wasn't about to admit my fault to him.

"You did," he said contritely. "And I'm grateful to you. I don't fully know what it is to be a Grey Warden, but I'll do whatever I must to repay your kindness."

I introduced him to Aiden. "He'll keep an eye on you and tell you some of the kind of work you can expect to do." I was feeling too queasy for chatter. The stressful confrontation at the tower did me no favors.

"Where are we going, if I may ask?" Anders asked.

"Denerim," Aiden replied. "We have an audience with the king."