Of Wardens and Witches

Part 1 – It's All Fun and Games…

There was no sense in putting off the inevitable. Teagan had to be told about the pregnancy. I sent him a message telling him I needed to speak with him, and as soon as my duties allowed for a few days away from Amaranthine, I would visit him in Redcliffe.

In his reply, he offered to come to the Vigil. This prompted me to send a second letter. Things were hectic here, I wrote, and I needed a couple of weeks to oversee the completion of repairs on the keep. I kept the tone of the letter upbeat and optimistic—things were going well, we were ahead of schedule, I had an excellent staff, and so on—but my work often took me to the city of Amaranthine as well as around the arling, and there would be too many interruptions for a proper visit. It would be best if we met in Redcliffe. What I didn't tell him was that it wasn't safe at the Vigil.

The workers had cleared the tunnel in the basement, and as we suspected, it led to the Deep Roads. We killed scores of darkspawn, and while we were down in the tunnels, we rescued a female member of the Legion of the Dead—an elite group of dwarven fighters. The rogue's name was Sigrun, and she had a surprisingly cheerful outlook for a woman destined, and committed, to die in battle. She joined with us and helped us clear the tunnels as far as we could go.

We came to a barrier designed to keep darkspawn out but it was never completed. The darkspawn found it, and that was their ingress to the Vigil. I had Voldrik come down and take a look at the barrier. The assembly consisted of three sets of doors, forged of brass and veridium by master dwarven smiths. The only thing lacking was to connect the locking mechanism, which Voldrik did. The barrier, he said, should last a decade or more. That was good enough for me.

I spent the next couple of weeks finishing the repairs and improvements to the Vigil. The holes in the walls were repaired and the entire wall reinforced. The shattered ballistae were replaced with new, more powerful ones. Master Wade outfitted the troops with better armor and arms than they'd ever owned. Overall, the Vigil was as strong as it could be. We still lacked the number of wardens I'd hoped to have by now, but I hadn't given up looking for recruits. Sigrun was happy to fight alongside us, but she drew the line at becoming a Grey Warden. She had one allegiance, she said, and though we had the same goals, she wanted her life, and her death, simple. I couldn't argue with that.

Oghren was happy to have Sigrun around. She was one of his own, from the warrior caste as he was, and best of all, she was of the opposite sex. His former girlfriend Felsi had visited once, and their conversation ended with a breakup. She took their child, refusing to tell Oghren if she'd had a boy or a girl, and left. Oghren was indifferent. Their breakup was one thing, but for him to have no interest in his own child didn't make him too popular. Only Sigrun acted like it was nothing, and we soon found out why. She and Oghren were having an affair, and she didn't want the complication of her lover's ex or his kid to interfere with their relationship.

"Is that a dwarven thing?" Aiden asked, his annoyance coming through loud and clear. "This isn't the first time we've run across deadbeat dwarf dads. Remember Zerlinda in Orzammar? Her son's father couldn't be bothered with his kid either. I don't understand people like that."

"Neither do I," I agreed. "I expected Sigrun to be more compassionate, but I guess when one is committed to dying for their cause, the living don't have as much value. Or maybe, as you said, it's just a dwarven thing. Their caste system doesn't help, either."

"Have I told you how much I dislike that dwarf?"

"Many times." I gestured to the other wardens. "And you're in good company."

"Remind me why we keep him around. There's no blight, the war ended three months ago, and the darkspawn have been eradicated here for the time being. Can't you send him off?"

I understood his frustration, but I couldn't simply send a warden away without cause. Oghren was an arse. He was still the coarse, crude, offensive little man he'd always been. Being a disgusting person and annoying one's fellow wardens wasn't considered cause enough for dismissal. (I'd never heard of a warden being dismissed, for that matter.) Like him or not, we were stuck with him. On the bright side, Sigrun kept him occupied in our down time.

With the important business out of the way, it was time for that trip to Redcliffe. I took Aiden, Anders, Bryant, and Oghren along. The first three had worked hard and were due for a furlough. Oghren was brought to keep him out of everyone else's way. Mhairi was assigned to take Justice, Nathaniel, and Sigrun on a scouting mission, to follow up on a lead given by a couple of hunters. Their map might lead us to whoever or whatever was responsible for the attack against the Vigil. She was not to take action, only to gather what information she could and report to me upon my return. It was an important mission; I couldn't have Oghren screwing it up if he was too focused on Sigrun to keep his mind on his task.

The trip from Amaranthine to Redcliffe would take five full days. We were on foot and hadn't brought enough provisions, assuming we'd pick up food along the way. Our route didn't take us through any villages, though, and by the third day our food had run out.

"Whose bonehead idea was it to bring so little food? How hard is it to remember that we need to eat?" Oghren complained.

"It was my bonehead idea," I answered. "You are aware of how much five days' worth of food for five people would weigh, aren't you? Did you want to carry it? Because if so, you could have told me. No one would have denied you the privilege of being the pack animal."

"No I didn't want to carry any more than I already have," he snapped. He turned to Anders. "Aren't you mages supposed to be able to do some magic stuff and make animals appear?"

Anders was nonplussed. "Yes, many mages can conjure animals. I have that ability."

"Well, what can you conjure? How about a couple dozen nugs?"

"I can't make a nug," Anders said, still confused as to where the conversation was leading.

"You're no good for nuthin," Oghren grumbled. "You said you can make an animal, right? So go ahead, conjure something."

"I can make a wolf or a bear. I can't see how it's needed, but if you want…"

"I don't like wolf. Too tough and stringy, and the meat smells funny. Bear sounds tasty though, whatever that is. Conjure a bear."

Anders gaped at him in disbelief. "Oghren, it's a spirit bear."

"So what?" Oghren shrugged. "If you cook it right, I'm sure spirit bear is as good as… as any other kind of bear."

Aiden and Bryant looked away to hide their smiles. Anders did an admirable job of keeping a straight face. "Well, I can conjure it, but spirit bears don't usually appear right where you want them. They have to be hunted."

"Ohh, like women, right? You have to woo them before they give up the goods?"

"Something like that," Anders said.

Aiden jumped in. "Tell you what, Anders. You conjure that spirit bear, and I'll go hunt it for us. Shouldn't be too hard to track."

And so they did. Anders performed a bogus spell, and Aiden and Bryant went out to hunt. They found an old halla, too feeble to keep up with its herd, in a patch of woods and killed it, skinned it, and brought it back to camp.

"One spirit bear, as requested," Aiden announced. Bryant volunteered to cook it.

"That makes sense," Oghren said. "Old Bryant here can probably cook all kinds of spirit animals that them magic guys conjure."

Bryant played along beautifully. "If it were a younger… spirit bear… I could have roasted it on a spit. But since this is a mature one, I'll have to stew it."

"Hey, as long as it's meat, I'll be happy. Now if you folks will excuse me, I'm going go get sodding drunk before dinner." He found a cozy nook and settled in with his wineskin.

Bryant asked, "Exactly what is he drinking? That skin never gets empty, but he drinks all the time. We haven't stopped to buy supplies."

Aiden answered, "You don't want to know, Bryant. We had this discussion months back, and we came to a conclusion that made our stomachs turn."

Bryant stopped what he was doing. His hands froze in mid-chop. His expression went from questioning to one of total disgust. "You're joking. This is another joke like the spirit bear thing, right? Surely nobody would… Not even someone like Oghren?"

"If you have a better explanation, I'd like to hear it," Anders said. "The skin isn't self-replenishing. And it explains why he always smells like dried piss."

"Maker…" Bryant looked like he was going to throw up. We all understood. Anders wasn't there when we found Oghren or when Zev and Alistair questioned him about his endless supply of ale, but he'd heard the story.

Bryant was a talented cook. The stew was excellent. "You can cook for me any time," I said to him. "That was without a doubt the finest spirit bear I've ever had."

He gave a small bow and a smile of thanks. "Any time you wish, Warden-Commander."

Oghren paused his slurping, smacking, and belching long enough to swallow a mouthful of stew and slur, "Wait til I tell ol' Siggy that I had spirit bear. Is she ever gonna be jealous! We never get to have bear in Orzammar."

"I'm not surprised," Aiden smiled. "They're rare."

"Rare? Mine wasn't rare. It was cooked just right. Good on ya, Templar."

Part 2 - …Until Somebody Gets Hurt

Redcliffe Castle came into view, and my stomach knotted up with nerves. The daily nausea had passed, as Anders predicted it would. But facing Teagan and telling him about the pregnancy made me apprehensive. My mind played out a variety of scenarios. In one, he was angry that I'd been so careless. In another, he accused me of seducing him just to get pregnant. In still another, he wanted nothing to do with the child. And my favorite… he denied the child was his.

My legs trembled like rubber when I climbed the castle steps. The door looked miles away, but when I put my foot on the first step, it seemed the door rushed to meet me.

"What's wrong?" Aiden whispered. "Are you sick again?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

"It's going to be alright, you know."

I could have played innocent, but why bother? Aiden was terrible at hiding his feelings or keeping secrets (much like Anders, apparently). I could see in his eyes that he already knew the truth, and he knew why I'd come here.

The doors opened before we reached the landing, and the castle steward welcomed us in. "The arl will be with you momentarily," he said. "Please follow me." He brought us to the sitting room. The men found seats around a table, and I paced the floor.

"Do you think the arl will be upset if we get into his wine?" Anders asked, indicating a rack of bottles against the wall.

"Not in the least," Teagan answered from the doorway. "Please make yourselves at home."

"You heard the man," Oghren said enthusiastically. "Uncork a bottle, magey boy."

Teagan knew Aiden and he'd seen Anders before, but not the others. He maintained a more formal mien in front of these strangers. He welcomed us to Redcliffe, asked how long we'd be staying, and offered us his typical hospitality by having rooms and a meal prepared for us.

"You asked to meet with me?" he asked. "Did you wish a private audience?"

"Yes, if you please," I answered, keeping up appearances. He led me toward the great hall.

Oghren blurted out, "Oooohhh, a private meeting. You know what that means. Heh heh heh." The others tried to hush him, but he only talked louder and his conversation became cruder. "Go get em, Warden-Commander! Maybe the good arl can work some of that sass out of you."

I groaned. "I'm so sorry. He's not quite as bad sober, but he hasn't been sober since we left Amaranthine."

"Not to worry, my dear," Teagan answered. "I'm embarrassed for you, not for myself. And truth be told, I rather like his idea."

I looked around the wide open great hall. "Do you think we can go some place less… cavernous? This is a private matter and I don't want it echoing around the castle."

"Of course. I've turned Connor's old room into my study. Let's go there." We started for the stairs to the second floor and he asked, "Is everything alright? You're beginning to worry me with all this secrecy."

"Everything's fine," I said, hoping it would be fine after I'd done talking with him. "Nothing to worry about. I just need to talk to you."

When we were settled in his study, sitting across from each other at a small table, he prompted me, "So tell me, love, what's this all about? You look troubled."

"I suppose I am. There are some… unexpected developments…"

Unexpected? Oh, sure. What we did couldn't possibly lead to pregnancy…

"What is it? Don't be hesitant. You can tell me anything."

"Please don't be upset, but… I'm pregnant."

He stopped, blinked, brought his hands up to his face. I heard him let out a long sigh, then he lowered his hands and grasped mine. "Woman, you had me so worried! I thought you'd suffered ill effects from the war or you'd gotten injured in Amaranthine. But…pregnant! How wonderful!"

"You're not angry, then?"

"Angry?" he laughed. "How could I be? The woman I adore is carrying my baby. Could there be any more delightful news than this?" He stood and pulled me to my feet. "I love you, Winter, in case you've forgotten." He gathered me into an embrace. "Only one thing could make me happier than I am now. Have you considered my proposal? I want you to be my wife."

Truthfully, I hadn't given it much thought. I hadn't given it any thought. In light of our present circumstances, marriage made sense. But because I was a Grey Warden, it made no sense to marry, only to be called out whenever darkspawn appeared.

"I still have things to do in Amaranthine," I answered lamely. "I might be gone for a while longer."

"My love, you're not going to be able to carry out your duties much longer. Not without endangering yourself and our baby. You're going to have to resign your post eventually… sooner rather than later."

I knew this. I knew it, but my stubbornness threw me into denial. Irrational denial. "I don't know about that. I'm sure I can take a short break and have the baby, then resume my post…" Even as I was saying the words, I knew I sounded like an idiot. He smiled indulgently and let me ramble. "Alright, yes, I'll have to resign my post. But not right away."

"Avoiding the question, are you?"

"No. Yes. No. I don't know what to say."

"So I see." He dropped the subject for now and tilted my chin up, kissing me with the passion I'd come to crave. "I've missed you," he whispered against my lips.

"Me too," I whispered back.

"Come to my suite?"

"Oh yes."

"They've been gone a long time," Oghren remarked. "That guy must have some real stamina." He made lewd gestures that none of his companions wanted to see.

"You're disgusting, dwarf," Bryant said.

"I know," Oghren grinned.

"Not to belabor the point," Anders said, "but they really have been gone a long time. Do you suppose she's alright?"

Aiden rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Anders? Were you that sheltered in the tower?"

"Supposedly," Bryant answered for him. "But not likely."

"I know what we oughta do," Oghren said. "We oughta go up there and listen at the door."

"Why would we want to do that?" Anders asked. "It's an invasion of her privacy."

"We'd want to do that cuz it would be fun to listen," the dwarf leered.

"It's wrong." Anders was adamant.

"It's sexyyyyy," Oghren taunted.

"Absolutely not," Bryant put in.

"No," Aiden insisted, "and that's final. No more discussion of it."

I stretched like a lazy cat, sated and happy and so completely in love that I thought I must be dreaming. I had dozed off for a bit, tired from my long trip and, naturally, from my most recent exertions. Tired and elated. I looked over at my beloved. He was sleeping soundly. It would be a shame to wake him.

I slid out of bed and found my clothes. They were all over the room, in a trail that started from the door and ended at the bed. As quietly as I could, I dressed and tried to smooth my hair so it didn't look like I'd been in a windstorm. I held my boots in my hand so I wouldn't make noise clomping about, and slowly opened the door, eased out of the room, and closed the door behind me. When I turned around, my companions were sitting on a bench in the hallway.

What in the Maker's name are they doing up here? They're supposed to be downstairs!

"Have you ever heard such a commotion?" Anders asked Aiden.

"Not since Oghreh slobbered down that last meal of bear stew," Aiden answered him.

"Spirit bear," Oghren chimed in. "Almost as good as... you know." He winked and made a crude gesture with his hands.

"Do you think the old boy is still alive in there?" This was Aiden, of course.

"Not from the sounds I heard," Anders replied. "All those grunts and groans and shouts and whatnot… I think he might have had a heart attack or something."

"How about the part where she sounded like a wolf howling at the moon?" Oghren snickered. He made a howling wolf sound to illustrate his description.

"That wasn't her. It was him." This was Anders' input.

"No kidding? The lucky bastard. You're a firebrand, Winter. I'm jealous." It was Aiden again.

I was horrified. Mortified. Frozen to the spot with my boots in my hand, my hair a mess, my clothes askew. I could feel the hot flush in my cheeks.

"You … That's not… You couldn't have… You didn't really…" I couldn't get a sentence together. "Did you hear… sounds?"

Aiden, Anders, and Oghren nodded simultaneously, like three puppets attached to one string. I looked to Bryant. He wouldn't lie. Those three would, in a trice. He only gave me a sympathetic half-smile and a half-shrug.

It was more than I could take. I fled back into Teagan's suite and flopped in a chair, set my boots down and covered my face with my hands. I'd never been so humiliated, and those louts were laughing it up at my expense. How could I look any of them in the eye? How was I supposed to go back to the Vigil and lead these men after this? They'd never take me seriously again, and I guess I couldn't blame them. They weren't likely to forget the incident. Ever.

Were they telling the truth? I didn't want to think so, but even the reserved Bryant didn't deny it. I'd been caught up in passion, naturally, but… Was I really so…wanton?

Andraste's blood, I'll never live this one down. Why did I bring them with me anyway?

"Darling, are you upset?" Teagan's sleepy voice reached through to me. I thought I could hide it from him, but I was too distressed to behave as if everything was alright. He opened his arms and I stumbled into his embrace, burying my face in his bare shoulder. He soothed me with, "I hear women are emotional during pregnancy. That's all it is, love." I nodded and burrowed closer to him, trying to hide under him or under the bed or beneath the stone floor, if it were possible.

Bryant frowned at the other wardens and spoke in a hushed tone. "I only agreed to this because you said it was a little joke. You humiliated her. That was cruel."

"Yeah, well, if you felt so bad about it, why didn't you tell her the truth?" Oghren challenged. "You could have put a stop to it, but you played along."

"I… have no excuse, but I'm going to apologize to her at my first opportunity."

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Anders asked.

"Yeah, it was," Aiden sighed. "We went too far. She was really upset."

"Okay, so we should make this right. Who wants to knock on the door?" Anders asked.

Nobody volunteered. They got up, one by one, and went back downstairs to the sitting room. Three of the four felt the weight of guilt. Oghren still thought it was the best prank he'd played on anyone in years.

Shortly afterwards, their host came into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat at the table with them and addressed them calmly and quietly, but in a reproachful tone.

"Wardens, I enjoy a good joke or prank as much as the next man. I heard what you said to Winter outside my door, and that was not a good joke. It was cruel, thoughtless, and heartless. How any of you found humor in someone else's humiliation is beyond my comprehension. That woman is more than just your superior. She is the woman I love, the woman I plan to marry, and she is carrying our child. My child. I will not have her treated with disrespect in my home. You four are no longer welcome here. Please see yourselves out. You can report back to Vigil's Keep, or you can go to oblivion. I'll have my knights escort the warden-commander to the Vigil. Good day." He rose and walked to the study door, opening it and standing by it, waiting for them to leave. The steward awaited them beyond him, at the hall leading to the castle exit.

Three shame-faced wardens shuffled out silently, embarrassed and contrite, followed by a drunken dwarf who wondered what all the fuss was about.

"You sent my men away? Why? Teagan, I'm their commander, not you. How could you take it upon yourself to do that?"

I'd fallen asleep in Teagan's arms. When I woke, he was gone and the room was quiet, softly lit by a candle on the dresser. It was past sunset, well past time for me to get up and…

The memory of my companions' rude jesting came rushing back. I was mortified all over again.

I couldn't avoid them forever, so it seemed best to get it over with. Now that I had regained some of my composure—though not much of my dignity—they were in for a stern reprimand. I went to the sitting room and found them gone. Teagan was alone, sitting at the table brooding. He told me he had thrown them out. They'd been gone for about five hours.

Teagan was still angry with them. "I couldn't bear to look at their faces after what they'd done. Forgive me for undermining your authority. That wasn't my intent. But I could not have them under my roof after the way they treated you. If I'd let them stay, it would have been as if I approved of their brutish humor."

It was a bit of an overstatement, but I understood. I didn't care for his interference, but I appreciated his protectiveness. My guys were out of line, way out of line. Their joke not only affected me, but it insulted their host—a ranking noble and a gentleman. What were they thinking? They could be cheeky, and too often their jokes were bawdy, but I'd never known them to be so juvenile. Even Bryant was a part of it, of all people! Teagan thought they owed me an apology; I felt they owed him one.

"I need to get back to the Vigil and take care of this," I said.

"No. You should let them stew a while and think about their actions, and the consequences," he replied. "They aren't little boys, though they acted like spoiled brats. They can make it back on their own. Besides, they're on foot and you'll be on horseback. You'd arrive days ahead of them. I'm hoping you will take a few days off, away from them, and rest here. You look as if you haven't been eating or sleeping well."

That much was true. The morning sickness had drained me of energy, and I was just starting to get it back. I was still too thin but that would change soon enough. As for sleep, he was right on that score. I hadn't slept well in weeks.

He gave a list of reasons why I should stay. I gave my reasons why I ought to go. In the end, I relented. He was right; I was on edge, gullible enough to fall for their prank, and too emotional to be as objective as I ought in my position. Some rest would do me good. He sealed it with his suggestion that we go to Rainesfere.

"I've been putting it off, but I need to meet with the nobles and try to persuade them to elect a new bann. I can handle the workload; Rainesfere is virtually problem-free. But it would be in their best interests if their bann lived among them." He didn't seem willing to give up the post.

"I disagree," I said. "The king lives in Denerim. He can't be everywhere at once, but he rules the whole country. How is that so different?"

"True enough," he agreed. "I owe it to them to put the idea forward, but I won't push for it."

Part 3 – Tears of a Clown

Eamon was worried for his king. King Alistair had become irate and distant, uninterested in the affairs of state, and when he wasn't in a temper, he was depressed. He started drinking heavily, and most days he was drunk from morning until he passed out in the evening. It happened so suddenly that Eamon was at a loss as to what could have turned the cheerful, agreeable, fun-loving young man into a surly sot. His enemies were dead, the country was recovering from the war, relations with Orlais were stable, and Ferelden faced no real threat aside from the problem at Vigil's Keep, which the new warden-commander was well able to handle.

It went from bad to disastrous when Eamon approached the king about a small matter. Alistair was drunk, and he was rambling about a 'taint' and something about a woman… or two women? His slur was so pronounced that Eamon sometimes had trouble understanding his words, much less what he was going on about. Some things came out clearly, however.

"I loved her. D'you know I wuzz…" he paused to hiccup, "…going to ass cur t'be my queen? She would've made a good queen. But the witch, that sneaky bitch-witch…" More hiccup-burp sounds. He grew agitated. "…sheee had to have a demon baby. And then she ruined everything. And then I killed her. And it." Eamon listened, but he had difficulty connecting the story. Alistair took another long pull from his bottle of Maker-knew-what liquor. "I'm a Grey Warden, d'joo hear? Like Duncan. Like Riordan. They're both dead. Not from the taint, but that'll kill you like this." He tried to snap but lacked coordination to perform the simple act. "We prob'ly couldn't have an heir. B'cuz we're both wardens." His countenance crumpled and he looked as if he were going to cry. "D'you know how a Grey Warn gets to be a Grey? They… don't tell no one cuz issa real big secret…" He lowered his voice to a loud, hoarse whisper. "With darkspawn blood." He nodded. "Thass right. They drink the taint. I did. She did too." His mood changed again, from conspiratorial back to mournful. Eamon felt like he was watching a one-man play. "She could die out there, Unc'a Meemon. Darkspawn. That talk. I sent her there. If she dies…"

"Your Majesty," Eamon interjected gently, so as not to distress the king further, "are you speaking of the warden-commander?"

"Don't talk to me about her!" Alistair roared. "Don't mention her name! She was mine, but she left. You saw her! She blamed me like it was my fault…" He threw his bottle against the wall. "Go! Get out of here! Stop hounding me! Maker curse you all!"

Eamon retreated from the room. It was a recurring theme. The king would get drunk, get agitated, go through the entire gamut of human emotions, pass out, then wake with a hangover and a lot of apologies, remembering that he'd behaved badly but recalling nothing he'd said.

The king's rant was a jumble, but Eamon gathered that he had fallen in love with the warden-commander and that the girl didn't return his affection. As for the secrets he'd spilled about Grey Wardens, Eamon was appalled and humbled. He'd never let on what he knew, but he gained a deeper respect for the wardens and their sacrifice.

His immediate concern was how to get the king to snap out of his depression and return to the man he'd been before… whatever it was that caused his moodiness. Now that he pondered it, the problem started the day the warden-commander came to give her report. They'd had words, he knew that much. He could hear their raised, angry voices. After she left, the king became sullen and he started drinking.

Maker's blood, why didn't he figure it out sooner? In truth, there wasn't much he could do about it. If the girl didn't love him, she couldn't be forced into it. Eamon himself had loved and lost, and in a way far more jarring than finding out the object of a crush didn't feel the same way about him. He'd gotten past it, but not without pain, and only with fierce determination to move on. In matters of the heart, Alistair was still a child. He didn't know how to handle a woman's rejection.

Maybe the king could use a few days of privacy. And sobriety. There wasn't much he could do about Alistair's drinking but he could leave the castle for a while. Eamon needed to get away for his own sake. The past weeks had been difficult, to put it mildly, and he was too old for such goings-on. He watched Alistair destroying himself, and it aged Eamon a decade to do so.

He wrote the king a blunt message and left it at his bedside. He was going to Redcliffe for a few days. When he returned, if the king didn't want him as chancellor or regent (his title changed with Alistair's moods), he would leave and go back to his old home.

He missed his castle and his people, and the peace he'd enjoyed as an arl. It was Teagan's arling now, and Redcliffe was thriving under his younger brother's rule. Eamon looked forward to a visit with him. Maybe Teagan could offer some suggestion as to what he could do to help the king, or advise him to leave the king's service if it came to that. Eamon was the diplomat, but Teagan was the less emotional, more sensible member of the family.

Alistair woke with a raging headache and a sour taste in his mouth. His stomach felt like it was going to reject its contents. The light from the parted drapes stabbed into his eyes like needles. This was how he woke every morning. He was tired of it. Tired of the sickness, the sorrow, and the pain. He just needed something to help him through it.

He sat up and held his aching head in his hands. No healer could cure a hangover. Well, they could, but he didn't want mages in his home. Anyway, he'd have another hangover tomorrow, and the next day, and the following… Unless he made up his mind to stop drinking. What good was it? He still missed her, the heartache was still with him whether he was drunk or sober, and he was probably making an arse of himself in front of Eamon—a man he'd respected all his life.

He spied a message on the bedside table. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he read it. Eamon had left for Redcliffe. He was ready to resign his position in the court if the king wanted him out. The underlying tone of the message was that Eamon wanted to leave. He wasn't able to help the king and he couldn't sit by and watch him destroy himself.

"Your Majesty,

"I have left for Redcliffe and expect to be gone for ten days. In my absence, my assistant will see to your needs. I trust you will find his work satisfactory, as I do.

"I am deeply concerned for your welfare, Sire. Specifically, your disregard for the country and her people, and your recklessness with your own health. At the risk of sounding impertinent, as your advisor I feel it is my duty to say that you put Ferelden at risk. Our armies stand idle without a commander. The banns have no one to answer their questions or settle disputes. While you tend to your personal issues with drunkenness, our country is without leadership.

"Perhaps Your Majesty should consider appointing another, more influential and trusted person as regent and advisor. You no longer listen to my counsel; therefore I feel I have no place in your court. Upon my return to Denerim, I will be prepared to tender my resignation or receive your dismissal, as you see fit.

"You will have my support, Majesty, but I cannot remain in the castle and watch you kill yourself with drink. I say this with a heavy heart, as your former guardian and as your friend.

"May the Maker guide you,

Eamon Guerrin"

Alistair set the letter down. After a few minutes of thought, he picked it up and read it again. Eamon was right in everything he'd said. He was a terrible king, wrapped up in his personal heartache, neglecting his duty. As a templar and a Grey Warden, duty was foremost. It was everything, with all other considerations secondary. Why should he change now, when he had taken on the most significant role of his life? Did he want history to record his rule as that of an incompetent drunkard and a failure?

He rose from bed, suffering the nausea and aches, and pushing himself to function despite his discomfort. It had been self-inflicted and he deserved to feel like crap. He summoned the servants to bring him water for a bath. Once he'd gotten himself cleaned up and fully awake, he would take command, as he'd done at the start of his reign. He made up his mind to put aside his personal pain and to put Ferelden first.

He didn't want to lose Eamon as his regent. If he had lost someone dear to him along the way, that was how it must be. He just hoped he could maintain this resolve the next time he saw her.

"Maker guide you, Winter. I'll love you always," he whispered to the empty room.

Rainesfere was glorious in the late fall. Its proximity to the Frostback Mountains made the air unseasonably frigid. West winds blew across the small bannorn, bringing early frost on the ground in the mornings.

We spent five days there, and we lived as newlyweds. No longer hiding our love from the servants or pretending to sleep in separate rooms, we were unashamed of our relationship. The staff treated me as they would treat the lady of the house. I hadn't felt so at home since before my parents died, when I was innocently oblivious to the cruelty and dangers of the world outside my sheltered nest.

Teagan kept his business meeting brief. As expected, the locals didn't want another bann. They said Redcliffe was close enough to Rainesfere, and no one had an issue with him living miles away. They asked to have the bannorn annexed into Redcliffe, if the arl agreed. Teagan said he would think on it and give them his answer soon. I didn't know why he put it off. Why let go of something so dear to him when the people clearly wanted him as their leader?

When he wasn't in a meeting, we were together. We'd grown so comfortable with each other that it felt like we were married. These were the happiest days of my life. But the days came to an end and it was time for me to return to the Vigil, and for him to resume his duties in Redcliffe.

He asked me to stay over another day or so at the castle, but I declined. I'd been gone from the Vigil for too long already. "Won't you come inside before you go?"

I knew better. He was trying to entice me to stay. "I'd like to leave as soon as possible. And the next time you try to lure me into your web, be more subtle." I knew him too well by now.

A servant met him in the courtyard to tell him the regent was waiting to see him. Eamon had been there for three days, he said. Teagan instructed the servant to tell Eamon he'd returned and would be with him directly.

He had Ser Perth and two other knights ready to escort me back to Amaranthine. We said a lengthy goodbye, with promises to write and see each other soon. Before I mounted my horse, he put a hand on my abdomen and told me to take good care of our son. I raised an eyebrow.

A son, is it? We'll see.

Aiden was the first to approach her when she returned to the Vigil. Without waiting for her to come to the throne room, barely waiting for her to catch her balance after dismounting from her horse, he caught her in an embrace. "I'm so sorry, Winter. I swear I didn't mean to hurt you or humiliate you. It was cruel and stupid, and I'm ashamed of myself."

"Aiden," she said, trying to pull back from his tight embrace, "it's cold, it's raining, and I'd like to get inside by the fire."

"Not until I have your forgiveness," he insisted. "If I have to stand out here all afternoon and keep you warm, I'll do it. But you have to forgive me so I can forgive myself."

"You have it. Now please let me go inside."

"It doesn't sound like you mean it."

"Move! I'm cold and I want to go inside!"

Her severe tone took him by surprise and he relaxed his hold enough for her to escape it. She ducked under his arms and started for the keep at a trot. "Hey, you shouldn't be running when you're pregnant!" he called after her. She didn't acknowledge or slow her pace.

He caught up to her inside the keep. "Winter, talk to me," he pleaded. "I've been worried half sick about you. I feel terrible about what we did, and mostly about how I didn't prevent it when I could have and should have."

"I'll talk to you as a group, but you'll have to wait until I'm ready. Right now, I'm cold, wet, and hungry. Your guilt isn't the most important thing on my agenda."

"What can I get for you? What can I do to help? Please don't shut me out. We're still friends, aren't we?"

She didn't like being so harsh with her friend but he had it coming. She was fighting back a twinge of her own guilt, knowing that they meant it to be a harmless prank that backfired because of their thoughtlessness. She suspected Oghren was at the heart of it. The others weren't typically as coarse, but the dwarf was offensive to everyone in some manner or other.

"Fine," she answered, and the edge in her tone had softened a little—just a little. "Have the kitchen staff bring a meal to my suite. I'd prefer to dine alone."

"I'll get right on it," he said, and dashed off to carry out her wishes. He went to the kitchen where the cooks were preparing to serve the midday meal to the workers, merchants, soldiers, and staff in the dining hall, and to the warden-commander, seneschal, captain, and wardens in the officers' private dining room. He instructed them to have two meals sent to the warden-commander's suite. It wasn't quite what she asked of him, but he wasn't going to let the day end with her still angry at him.

By now the officers and wardens knew what had happened in Redcliffe. It was impossible to keep it from them, since they'd returned without Winter and without explanation. Bryant would have confessed their foolish behavior, but Oghren beat him to it, still laughing at her reaction. Aiden wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp, but the little bastard was always so drunk he probably couldn't feel pain.

The incident didn't exactly endear the errant wardens to the rest of the officers. Varel and Garavel listened with stony silence and expressions of disgust. Sigrun berated Oghren, but the oaf retorted that if she didn't like his humor she could piss off. Rather than lose her lover, she kept quiet, but she wasn't as open with him as before. Anyone could become the next target of his insulting, embarrassing humor.

Nathaniel had more reason to dislike Aiden, and he made biting remarks that Aiden didn't bother to respond to. The Howe boy was right—he was an insensitive arse. Mhairi's slight interest in Aiden was effectively quashed. Justice went on about the cruelty of this world and its inhabitants.

Anders and Bryant, interestingly enough, finally had common ground. It was bad ground that had borne bitter seed, but their shared culpability formed a new bond between them. "The brotherhood of arseholes," Anders called their uneasy friendship. Bryant didn't take up the term, but he couldn't disagree with the mage. He felt like an arse for his participation in what he knew was wrong from the start.

The officers and wardens were aware the warden-commander had returned to the keep, but she didn't join them for the noon meal. "Is anyone surprised?" Varel asked, trying to keep his anger in check. "You boys will be lucky if she doesn't have the lot of you transferred to Soldier's Peak, to serve out the rest of your days as guardians of a dead land and an abandoned fort. You can do no harm there." He looked around the table and asked, "Where's the senior warden?" Nobody knew where he'd gone.

Mhairi's report was on Winter's desk, and she was reading it when her meal was brought it. "Two meals?" she inquired. "I asked for one."

Aiden came in and sat at her table. "We're going to talk about this, Winter. Either reassign the four of us to some remote post in the Free Marches or hear me out."

She put the report down and joined him at the table. "Fine. Talk."

Before their meal was ended, she had forgiven him (with a stern warning never to do anything like that again!) and their friendship suffered no lasting harm. Then, putting the incident behind her, she addressed Mhairi's scouting report. The party had found a darkspawn lair in western Amaranthine. A second report, from Amaranthine's constable, requested the wardens come to the city and investigate reports of darkspawn sitings outside its walls.

"We'll get on these tomorrow, after I've rested up from the ride and hopefully, when the rain has stopped. In the meantime, I'll decide if we go to both places as one group, or divide into two units and check them out. How do you feel about leading a team?"

He shrugged. "I'm ready, boss. Just say the word."

"Very well, I'll get back to you about it later. I need a nap."

Aiden approached her and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Winter. I don't know what I would do if I lost your friendship."

"Likewise, you arse," she answered good-naturedly. "Now get out of here and let me rest."

Part 4 - O Sole Mio

My sleep was interrupted by the sound of someone walking. The person was inside my suite. I opened my eyes and saw Morrigan there, standing by the table, watching me with her yellow eyes. As Alistair used to say, "Creepy."

This time it wasn't a dream. She was really here. How she'd gotten in past the guards, through the throne room with the officers and my fellow wardens around, and into the living quarters, was something I would have to ask her. I hoped the crazy witch hadn't killed them all.

"Warden-Commander," she greeted with mock respect.

"Witch of the wilds," I responded in kind, rising from my bed. I felt too vulnerable with my weapons out of reach, so I moved closer to the desk where I'd left them.

"Your weapons won't be needed. I am not here to harm you." She took a seat, as if I'd invited her to stay and have a nice girly chat. "Your templar friend disrupted our last meeting. I would have preferred to hold our discussion without having to come here physically, but my efforts would have been thwarted again."

"Sorry for the inconvenience," I shrugged. "He's a good man."

"I'm not here to discuss your companions. I need to speak to you about an urgent matter."

"Is that so? Then please state your business and leave. Frankly, I don't see that we have anything to talk about."

"We do. It concerns your child."

My alertness jumped up to its highest level. How did she know about my pregnancy? "My child is none of your concern."

"On the contrary, he is my primary concern. He is the sole reason I've contacted you. You yourself, apart from him, do not matter to me."

"Shouldn't you be bothering Alistair about your own child instead of inquiring about mine? After all, you went through such bother to get him to lie with you so you could conceive. What went wrong? Was your womb too corrupted to hold the seed?" Jab, jab, jab. Being around her made me feel bitchy.

"Conception was successful," she confirmed. "Not my most thrilling encounter, but successful."

"Before we go further, how did you get him to agree to lie with you? I thought you two hated each other."

"Indeed. I despised him as much as he despised me. Maybe more. Aiden was gone, so there was only Alistair. As for convincing him, I gave him the one reason he couldn't ignore. He loved you. I convinced him my ritual would save your life, as you can see it has. In return, I needed to be impregnated by a man recently tainted."

"Yes, I've heard that much, but how did you convince him to physically go through with it? I mean, if I hated a man, there would be no attraction and no chance I'd lie with him unless he forced himself on me."

"It was not forced, but I confess I had to dose him heavily with lyrium to gain his cooperation."

"Well," I said, "it would seem I owe Alistair an apology. He told the truth and I didn't believe him."

"Alistair is unimportant. He killed the seed, but he did me a service. I would have rid myself of it if he hadn't. The soul of the old god didn't come to me. Urthemiel chose you."

"What is this 'old god' stuff? The old gods become archdemons. Everyone knows that. Why would I have the soul of an archdemon now?" She must have been nuts if she thought I was the new archdemon. I hadn't had any urges to fly or devour people, hadn't developed the ability to breathe fire, and my skin wasn't bursting out in scales and spikes.

"You don't have it, and he's not the archdemon any longer. Your child has the soul of the old god. That's why, when he's born, you must give him to me."

"Give my child to you? Why in oblivion would I do that?"

"Because I'm the only one who can guide him to his full potential. Because I too am an old god."