Bann Teagan was waiting for them atop the castle steps. "You return. Might you have news?"

Saitada nodded. "What is Arl Eamon's condition?"

"Unchanged, I'm afraid." He gestured for her to walk with him as they entered the castle. "We've tried more magical healing, but nothing works. As time passes, I become more and more convinced the Urn might be our only hope."

She gestured for Wynne to accompany them. "We found the Urn."

Teagan stumbled. Hope lit his face. "You have?" Wonderful! Let us go at once to Eamon's side and see if the Urn's healing powers live up to their reputation!"

He led them to Eamon's room. The man was pale on the bed, his breathing slow. Teagan and Saitada stood back as Wynne bent over him, the pouch of ashes in her hand. Wynne's fingers glowed white as she anointed Eamon's face with the ashes.

A gasp came from Isolde as Eamon stirred on the bed a few moments later. The woman almost immediately dissolved into tears. Eamon blinked up at the ceiling. "Wh-where am I?"

Teagan moved to stand next to him. "Be calm, Brother. You have been deathly ill for a very long time. Do you remember nothing?"

"Teagan? What are you doing here? Where is Isolde?"

"I am here, my husband." She sat next to him, taking his hand in hers and kissing it.

"And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son?"

"He lives, though many others are dead. There is much to tell you, husband."

Eamon's eyes widened with sudden realization. "Dead? Then... it was not a dream?"

Teagan looked down at him. "Much has happened since you fell ill, Brother. Some of it will not be... easy for you to hear."

"Then tell me. I wish to hear all of it."

Teagan glanced at Saitada, and began to tell the story.

#

Cathiel found Alistair lingering in the hall. He brightened when he saw her, and then shifted nervously. "Everything all right?" she asked him.

He inhaled. "All right. I guess I really don't know how to ask you this."

She blinked at him. "Are you sweating?"

"No! I mean yes. I mean... I'm a little nervous, sure. Not that this is anything bad or frightening or... well, yes." He paced. "Oh, how do I say this? You'd think it would be easier, but every time I'm around you, I feel as if my head's about to explode. I-I can't think straight."

"That's very sweet."

He took her hands in his. "Here's the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you. Not ever." He kissed her hands. "I don't know how to say this another way. I want to spend the night with you. Maybe this is too fast, I don't know, but... I know what I feel."

She kissed him. "I thought you'd never ask." She drew him with her to their room. "And look, we actually have a..." She stopped short. "Bed." Said bed was sprinkled with flower petals. A bottle of wine and a tray of fruit sat next to it, arranged rather suggestively. "Your doing?"

"Um... no." He blinked, and then turned bright red. "I'm going to kill those three."

She caught his hand and pulled him towards her. "Later."

He kissed her, and then kicked the door closed before picking her up and carrying her towards the bed. "Much later."

#

Eamon looked down at the gathered wardens and their companions. Exhaustion still showed on his face, and he had to sit in the chair. Isolde was practically hovering over him. "This is most troubling. There is much to be done, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much." He smiled. "Grey Wardens, you have not only saved my life but kept my family safe as well. I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you a reward for your service?"

"We need your help against the Blight," Saitada replied, her voice strong and firm. "That will do."

Eamon looked confused for a moment, and then impressed. "I understand, but regardless of your motivations I feel you are worthy of a reward. I would like to honor your efforts, nothing more."

She crossed her fists over her chest and gave him the formal bow of Orzammar. "As you wish, then."

"Then allow me to declare you and those traveling with you champions of Redcliffe. You will always be a welcome guest within these halls."

"Thank you, your grace."

Teagan smiled, and then his voice grew concerned. "We should speak of Loghain, Brother. There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery."

Eamon nodded, his face troubled. "Loghain instigated a civil war even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power."

Teagan sighed. "I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon. He is mad with ambition, I tell you."

"Mad indeed," Eamon said. Sadness entered his voice. "Mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill myself and destroy my lands. Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped. What's more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end."

"But you can unite the nobility against Loghain, can't you?" Saitada asked.

"I could unite those opposing Loghain, yes." He leaned back, considering. "But not all oppose him. He has some very powerful allies. We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn."

Saitada nodded. "Loghain must capitulate, then." She saw most of her comrades nod. Morrigan looked as if she couldn't care one way or another, and Jerath was expressionless.

Eamon set his hands on the sides of his chair. "I agree. LOghain will pay for his heinous crimes. But our armies must be reserved for the darkspawn, not for each other." He sighed. "I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king. But it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen."

Saitada nodded. She knew what he was getting at. Alistair was the son of Maric. Cathiel was a Cousland. Alone, either had a strong claim. And if she was any judge, neither would be presenting their claim alone.

Teagan's face, however, showed concern. "Are you referring to Alistair, Brother? Are you certain?"

"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred."

"I think it's a great idea," Saitada said.

"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

Alistair shook his head. "And what about me? Does anyone care what I want?"

Eamon's voice was firm. "You have a responsibility, Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?"

"I... but I..." He sighed. "No, my lord."

"I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all of Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another." His face became uncertain, and he looked back to Saitada. "Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin. What say tou to that, my friend? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing."

"I say we proceed with your plan."

"Very well, I will send out the word. It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet."

Saitada nodded. "We will be heading to Orzammar soon. I think it best if I keep Alistair with me for now. If he is the man who brings an alliance to the Landsmeet, it will look better for him."

Eamon gave her a surprised look. "I agree."

#

Cathiel took Alistair's hand. "We can talk to her."

"I hope so," he said. He curled his fingers around hers. "I can't be king."

She kissed him, and then started walking with him to Saitada's room. Saitada stood at a desk, going over a map with Jerath. Alistair started shaking his head the moment he walked in. "You can't be serious," Alistair said.

Saitada sighed, and then looked up at him. "I am. Alistair, I know we are asking a lot."

"No, you don't. You are..."

She slammed her hands down on the desk and stared at him. "Alistair Therin, have you forgotten where we first met?" Both Cathiel and Alistair recoiled. The kind, gentle leader who laughed alongside them was gone. Before them stood Commander Aeducan, princess of Orzammar.

"No," Alistair said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Jerath looked up from the map. "Duncan saw strength in you. Strength enough that he was willing to risk the ire of a Grand Cleric. Was he wrong?"

Cathiel blinked, and looked at him. "You think this is a good idea?"

"Are you asking if I think Alistair could be a king to whom I would bend knee?" He stared at Alistair for a moment, tilting his head as if considering the question. "Yes."

Saitada nodded. "You're a good man, Alistair. Do not underestimate yourself."

He nodded slowly. "Okay." He sighed. "I mean, I'm not saying if some other option doesn't come up you shouldn't leap at it, but if this is really what it takes."

She nodded, and then gestured at the map. "We are going to Denerim to pick up some more supplies. Then we are taking a ship to the Frostbacks, and heading in to Orzammar." She gave a small shake of her head. "I'd say you are about to get a solid course in how not to run a country."

#

Saitada waited until Cathiel and Alistair had left before turning back to Jerath. "I know you have people in Denerim, but I have another task for you." She waited for him to nod. "I spoke with a man named Levi Dryden. Seems there is an old Warden stronghold named Soldier's Peak, dating all the way back to the second Blight. It was abandoned about two hundred years ago."

"You are hoping there is something left we can use?"

She nodded. "We can part ways here," she said, pointing to a spot on the map. "Who do you want with you?"

He considered a moment. "Morrigan and Shale should be sufficient."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"Meet us at Orzammar. Any messages you need delivered in Denerim?"

"I'd rather not have anyone looking towards the alienage."

She nodded. Then she sighed. "You and Morrigan?"

"It a problem?"

"I don't know." She looked at him. "Are you even..." She shook her head. "You are fifteen. She's somewhat older."

"Is that your only concern?"

"She's an apostate. And her motives for joining us are somewhat suspect." She leaned on the table and looked up at him. "Do you trust her?"

"No."

"Good. Retaking Soldier's Peak isn't going to be easy."

"If it were easy, someone else would do it."

#

"I noticed you've been training with Alistair. You didn't strike me as particularly faithful."

"We've faced no shortage of darkspawn that can use magic. It seemed the sensible thing to do." Jerath shrugged.

"It doesn't have..."

"I'm not a mage hunter, Wynne. But this is an opportunity to learn, and I will take it."

"I suppose that's a wise way to look at it. One is never done learning."

"Would you like me to ask Morrigan to teach you her trick?"

"No... no I... I think not." Wynne glanced back at where the witch was engrossed in a tome. "You are quite taken with each other, aren't you?"

Jerath sighed. It really hadn't taken long for the disapproving looks to start. "You know about Morrigan and me?"

"Well, she's hardly discreet. The way she looks at you, it's as though she's completely forgotten there's anything of you above the waist."

"That's part of her charm."

"I've noticed your blossoming relationship, and I wanted to ask you where you thought it was going. She is a cunning woman, a maleficar. She will use you for her own ends."

"There's more to us than that."

"I am telling you what I see, and what my instincts tell me. And even if the feelings you share are genuine, this affair may not be the best thing for either of you. You are a Grey Warden. You have responsibilities which supersede your personal desires."

"I know." He wondered how she could even question it. The woman had seen him fight demons and dragons in the name of their question.

She blinked in surprise. "And...oh... you know."

"I am a Grey Warden, Wynne." He shrugged. "Our stories don't have happy endings." Someday, the nightmares would come, and all that would be left would be a trip to the deep roads and one last battle. It was odd, sometimes, how much his life had changed since he'd first accepted his death and walked into the arl's manor.

"The last Grey Wardens in Ferelden... so much is expected from you. It hardly seems fair, to any of you. I look at you sometimes, and you are so young. You face death every day, you know you are unlikely to live long... does it frighten you?" Her tone was almost motherly.

"Had Duncan not recruited me, I would have been dead over a year by this point." He shook his head. "I suppose I fear only an ignominious death."

She gave him a steady look. "No, a quiet death is not for you. Your passing will be glorious, you will blaze like a falling star lighting up the night sky."

"Exactly." She was starting to sound like the spirit that occasionally appeared when he inadvertently entered the fade. For a moment, he considered talking to her about it. But she'd likely insist on telling Saitada or Lenore, and... he still wasn't sure how he felt about what had happened.

"The first Blight in four hundred years and here you are, the fulcrum on which it all turns. Whatever happens, you will become a legend. And if we should prevail, even if you die, you will live on in the memories of those you sacrificed everything for."

"I suppose that's all I could ask for," he said. She really did sound like the spirit. He wondered if it came from her being possessed.

"And perhaps one day they will forget, but it will not erase what you did. Every new day that they see, will be because of you. And nothing in this world will ever make that untrue."

"I will do what I have to, because it is my duty." It was hard to forget duty when it regularly showed up in dreams. Some days, he was actually nostalgic for the times when all it did was advise him to kill every other person he met.

"A Grey Warden through and through. Selfless to the last, devoted to those you protect. I am honored to have served with you."

He sighed. "You do realize this is all going to my head."

She laughed. "I see you've kept your sense of humor through all this. It will serve you well, in the coming days."

#

Brehan followed Leliana as she came over to sit next to Wynne. "I heard about... what happened and I... I don't really know what to say, but I feel like I need to say something. Sorry, perhaps?"

Wynne shook her head. "I do not need sympathy, so do not feel obliged to give me comfort. We all die, Leliana, and we all know it. How is this different?"

"Because... because it's sooner?"

"Is it really? I may die next year, or I may die tomorrow, shot through the heart by a bandit's arrow. I do not know for sure." She smiled. "The constant fear of death is enough to take the joy out of anything, especially life. Do not worry for me, or for yourself. Death will take us when it wills and till then, we shall live, truly live."

Brehan laughed softly. "Sometimes, Wynne, I think that you would have made an extraordinary keeper."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Wynne glanced at Leliana before looking back at Brehan. "I meant to ask, what did you think of the temple and the Urn?"

"There was power there. What it means... I am not truly certain."

"Do you believe in the Maker?"

Brehan considered a moment, and then lifted his hand. "Creators..." He held up his other hand. "Maker." He pressed his hands together. "I wonder if they are not simply two ways of looking at the same thing. Do you know Vir Tanadahl? The Way of the Three Trees?"

"I do not," Wynne said. Leliana shook her head.

"Vir Assan. Fly straight and do not waver. Vir Bor'assan. Bend but never break. Vir Adahlen. Together, we are stronger than the one." He folded his fingers together. "You see one. I see together. Perhaps we look at the same thing."

"I... had not considered that idea," Wynne said thoughtfully.

"I think I like it," Leliana said. "Vir Adahlen, together we are stronger than the one. We have each other, and we face only one archdemon."

Brehan gave Wynne a respectful nod. "Falon'din ghilana mir din'an, enasal ma dirtha. Sahlin, ma serranas mala dirtha, elgar nehn."

"What does that mean?" Wynne asked, her face clearly touched by his words.

"One day, Falon'din will guide you to death, and we will be blessed by what you have taught us. But in this moment, I am thankful to know you, and your wonderful spirit."

Wynne's smile trembled. "Leliana, turn around a moment, I'm going to kiss your young man."

Leliana laughed, and put a hand over her eyes as Wynne pressed a kiss to Brehan's cheek.

#

Zevran looked around the pile of dead darkspawn. "We... are ridiculously awesome."

"Don't get cocky." Saitada sighed, and then rolled her eyes as he laughed. "And not everything has to be an euphemism."

They moved on, heading up into the mountains. Wynne shifted her pace to walk next to Alistair. "Alistair, may I have a word?"

"Of course - anything for my favouritest mage ever."

"It seems you and our dear Cathiel are inseparable these days. Joined at the hip, almost."

Alistair gave her an almost wary look. "That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?"

"Well then, now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from."

Alistair nearly tripped over his own feet. "Pardon?"

"I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms...but that's not true. Actually what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other -"

"Andraste's flaming sword! I know where babies come from!" Alistair said, over the laughter of those within earshot.

"Do you? Do you really?"

"I certainly hope so."

"Oh, all right then. Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute."

"You did that on purpose!"

"Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?"

"Because you're wicked. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now." He stomped off.

Lenore snickered. "Wynne, I think you might just be my hero."

#

It was about an hour later before Alistair again matched his steps to Wynne. He nodded towards Jerath. "So you know about him and Morrigan, right? You've heard?"

"I think I know what are you talking about, yes."

"And you agree with it? You don't think that it's... dangerous?"

"Dangerous for whom? Her? Or him?"

"Anyone. She's maleficar... and rotten to the core. How can he even... this can't be a good idea. She can't be a good influence on him."

"I will admit that the thought did cross my mind, several times. But look at it another way..."

"Perhaps he will be a good influence on her."

"You know, you are just too understanding about stuff like this. Can't you be more judgmental? I'm trying to rant, here."

Wynne laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry. You go ahead and rant, dear, and I'll just nod my head if you like."

"So you'll mess with me but... you can't really be alright with them."

"I have spoken to the young man, if that makes you feel better."

"I..." he sighed. "He's going to be careful, right?"

Jerath glanced back at them. "Alistair?"

"Er... yes?"

"Who here has killed a dragon?"

"Um... you."

"And who had a dragon stand on him?"

"Uh... me?"

Jerath glanced at Cathiel, and then back at Alistair. "Perhaps you should think of that before pontificating on our respective relationships."

Alistair blinked as Jerath walked away. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Then he looked back at Wynne. "He just insulted me, didn't he?"

"I believe that I am not going to get involved in this particular conversation."

#

Saitada watched Jerath lead Morrigan and Shale off to the north, followed by Levi Dryden and his wagon. If they were lucky, Jerath would uncover records, or perhaps even Joining materials. Anything that would help them. The Grey Wardens knew more of darkspawn lore than the dwarves did. She sighed. Such as how to actually kill an archdemon.

She turned back to the others, and gestured for them to keep moving. Denerim awaited.

#

Zevran made a tsk sound under his breath. "Look at you. Your weary stance, the dark circles under your eyes. Poor man, all this constant walking has gotten to you. Do you know what you need?"

Brosca chuckled. "A good night's rest, maybe."

Zevran exchanged a look with Lenore. The mage smiled. "I think you could use more than that."

"Mmm..., yes. I'm thinking more drastic measures are called for, in fact." Zevran put his hand on Brosca's left shoulder.

Lenore put her hand on his right shoulder. "Indeed. With so much fighting, one does need to see to their health."

Zevran grinned. "My thought is this: We retire to your tent and I show you the sort of massage skills that one only learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse."

"Why, Zevran, that sounds like a marvelous idea. And you know what else he could use? Some wine and peeled grapes."

"I like the way you think, my dear lady."

Brosca chuckled. "That sounds good to me."

Zevran looked over his head at Lenore. "A willing victim it is." He looked back at Brosca. "And if I might ask, if the opportunity to proceed past the massage should present itself...?"

"You know how these things can get," Lenore said.

"I'm sure I'll think of something," Brosca said, putting an arm around each of them.

Zevran grinned. "Then why are we still talking?"

"That is a very good question," Lenore said.

#

Brosca ran his fingers through Zevran's hair. Zevran grinned up at him. "See? I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable."

Lenore giggled. "Here I thought I seduced you."

Zevran smiled with delight. "O-ho! Aren't you the saucy little minx, then?" He grinned at Brosca. "We've been used, and I wasn't even aware of it. A masterpiece."

Brosca pulled Lenore to him for a kiss, and then winked at Zevran. "She's practically a public menace."

"So then, as the priestess so famously said to the handsome actor: What now?"

Brosca sat up a bit. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

Zevran shrugged. "Allow me to make it simple for you, my Grey Wardens. What comes next is entirely up to you. I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come very often. I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give."

"That sounds fine by me," Lenore said. She brushed a hand through her hair.

"I must admit, we have come very far from those early days when I tried to kill you and you decided not to kill me... fate is such a tricky whore, isn't she?"

"So, my question is..." Brosca gave Lenore a glance. "Where did you learn that little trick with the electricity?"

Lenore gave him a coy look. "A lady never reveals her secrets."

#

Griffon ran off as soon as they entered the market. Cathiel sighed. "I suppose he's just going off to do some shopping."

"We should do the same," Alistair said. "You need arrows, yes?"

"Always. And I think your shield is about done for."

He nodded, and they started walking towards the shop of Saitada's friend. They were halfway there when Griffon ran back to them, followed by a young boy.

"Puppy!"

Cathiel sighed, and looked at the dog. "Maker! Where did you get that?"

Griffon wagged his tail and barked.

"If he comes with us, he's going to have to fight darkspawn."

The mabari looked back at the boy, then looked at Cathiel and barked again.

"I know he's too young. That's my point."

The dog went to his belly and whined.

"Then you should return him to his parents, yes?"

Griffon woofed, and then walked off dejectedly. Alistair shook his head slowly. "Wasn't that one of Goldanna's children?"

"All the more reason not to let Griffon keep him."

#

"What was that about children?" Saitada asked, glancing up at Sten.

"What were they doing? It did not look like it served any purpose."

"They were playing."

"That word means nothing to me."

Saitada laughed. "You were a child once, you must remember it."

"Yes. I remember days spent in study."

"They must play sometimes."

"Why?" He looked genuinely confused.

"They're children. It's what they do."

"Your priests clearly should have spent more time training you."

Saitada sighed. "Parents teach children to be adults, not priests."

"'Parents?' Are you speaking nonsense on purpose? If you insist on speaking, use real words."

She blinked, then considered a moment. "What do qunari call people with children?"

"Tamassrans. But the imekari are not "theirs". They belong to the qunari, not the priesthood."

She nodded. At least that made some sense. "So they're raised by priests, but they belong to everyone?"

"Yes."

"An interesting method." She frowned over a selection of breastplates, and offered one to him. "But play can be used for training, as well."

"What do you mean?" He examined the breastplate, then gave it a nod of approval.

She paid the merchant. "When I was very young, Trian would play a game with me. He would ask me a question about our history. If I answered correctly, I got a point. If I did not know the answer, he received a point. If, at the end of the game, he had more points, I lost, and he would send me off to the shaperate to learn and do better next time. But, if I had more points, I won, and he would take me down to the armory and give me a lesson in swordplay. He made training a game, and I loved him for it."

Sten considered a moment. "You are very good with a sword."

She laughed. "And I can recite dry, dwarven histories that would bore even you to tears. But there were stories of battles as well, and tactics, and what separated a good leader from a poor one. By learning from the mistakes of the past, we can do better in the future."

"Trian was your priest?"

"No. He was my brother. We had the same parents. Our father was Endrin, king of Orzammar. Trian was elder by some years, and would often see to my training when our father was busy with matters of state."

"I see. He did well."

"Thank you."

#

"This looks like the place," Brosca said, glancing back at Brehan and Leliana. "What's the plan?"

"A polite chat," Brehan said, touching the hilt of his axe.

Lenore laughed. "We'll follow your lead then."

Leliana went to the door, and opened it. Inside was a beautiful woman, dressed in fine clothes. Several armed men stood about the room. The woman stood and smiled. "Leliana! So lovely to see you again, my dear..."

Leliana shook her head. "Spare me the pleasantries. I know you're-"

Marjolaine waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, you must excuse the shappy accomodations... I try to be a good host, but you see what I have to work with?" She sniffed. "This country smells like wet dog. Everywhere. I cannot get the smell out. Even now it is my hair, my clothes... ugh."

"Why did you send assassins after Leliana?" Brehan asked.

Marjolaine gave him a distasteful look before turning her gaze back to Leliana. "So business-like, your companion."

"You framed me, had me caught and tortured. I thought that in Ferelden, I would be free of you, but it seems I am not." She shook her head. "What happened to make you hate me so? Why do you want me dead so badly?"

Marjolaine's face became amused. "Dead? Nonsense. I know you, my Leliana. I know what youa re capable of. Four, five men... you can dispatch easily." She folded her arms, her voice smug. "They were sent to give you cause to come to me. And see? Here you are."

Brehan found himself wanting to simply step forward and punch the woman in the face. He smirked. "You could have just sent a letter."

Marjolaine looked at him with open disgust this time. Leliana shook her head. "Ignore what she says. She is lying. I know how she works."

"Lasa ghilan, ma vhenan," Brehan replied. He saw Marjolaine's lips twist into a sneer at the elvish.

"What aer you up to, Marjolaine? Why are you in Ferelden?"

She shrugged, and her eyes narrowed. "In truth? You have knowledge that you can use against me. For my own safety, I cannot let you be." She scoffed. "Did you think I did not know where you were? Did you think I would not watch my Leliana?" Her tone grew mocking. "'What is she up to?' I thought. 'The quiet life, the peasant cloths, hair ragged and messy like a boy... this is not her. You were planning something, I told myself. So I watched... but no letters were sent. No messages. You barely spoke to anyone. Clever, Leliana, very clever. You almost had me fooled. But then you left the Chantry, so suddenly. What conclusion should I draw? You tell me?"

Brehan exchanged a look with Leliana. Surely this woman had to be kidding. A Blight was in the making, and she thought she was that important? Leliana shook her head. "You think I left because of you? You think I still have some plan for... for revenge? You are insane. Paranoid!"

"The Blight is what concerns Leliana now."

This time she actually spoke to him. "Oh, is that what you think?" She smirked. "If I were you, I would believe nothing she says. Not a one. She will use you. You look at her and you see a simple girl - a friend, trusting and warm. It is an act."

"I am not you, Marjolaine. I left because I didn't want to become you."

Once again Marjolaine's voice became mocking. "Oh, but you are me. You cannot escape it. No one will understand you the way I do, because we are one and the same. Do you know why you were a master manipulator, Leliana? It is because you enjoyed the game; you reveled in the power it gave you. You cannot change or deny this."

Brehan shook his head. There was nothing simple about his nightingale. "I trust Leliana, no matter what you say."

She smiled at him. "Thank you." She looked back at Marjolaine. "You will not threaten me of my friends again, Marjolaine. I want you out of my life, forever."

Brehan rested his hand on his axe. "She means go away."

"Leave Ferelden. Go back to Orlais and never return. What you do is no longer my concern."

"I see. I will go, for now. But you carry a dangerous secret of mine, Leliana. It is not over. Not for us."

"Sure you don't want me to just set her on fire?" Lenore asked casually.

"We could have our resident crow poison her," Brosca offered, gesturing at Zevran. "Or I could call up a few of my carta buddies."

Brehan touched his axe and gazed at Marjolaine, pretending for a moment that he was Jerath. "Ar'din nuvenin na'din, len'alas lath'din. Se telnadas. Dirthara-ma." He looked over at Brosca. "I think, if this shem comes near ma sa'lath, I will skin her and leave her to Fen'harel." His smile was savage. "Ma halam. Go."

She looked at them, and went.