The outer courtyard of the Keep was bustling with activity at this hour, early in the afternoon. The acrid smoke of burnt hooves from the smithy filled the air, and there was a constant background noise of people talking, heavy wagon wheels rumbling on the cobblestones, and tools clanging. Everyone was going about their business, yet no one seemed to be in a rush. After all, there were only so many hours in a day, and there would be more to do tomorrow, no matter how hard they worked.

It was a peaceful scene despite the hustle, and Nate loved it. It reminded him of his childhood, when he'd taken every opportunity to sneak away from his strict tutors and spend some time outdoors, playing tag with the workmen's children or practising with his bow. The sights and smells and noises were as familiar to him as his own heartbeat, or his reflection in the mirror. This was home.

He was in the middle of a pleasant chat with Samuel, the old groundskeeper, when there was a commotion at the gatehouse and the horn signalled the arrival of strangers. Nate hastily excused himself and hurried up the stairs to the nearest guard tower to see what it was all about.

A small group of riders was coming toward the Keep at a leisurely pace. Riders in Warden armour, if he wasn't very much mistaken. Nate frowned. This week's patrol had left only two days earlier, and they hadn't taken any horses, since they were headed for a Deep Roads entrance only half a day's march from the Keep. Besides, none of the riders looked familiar. There were only four of them, not enough to be considered a threat, but just to be on the safe side, he signalled for the archers on the battlements to be alert before he made his way to the gate. He arrived just in time to hear them announce their presence to the gatekeeper.

"We are Wardens from Jader, here to talk to Commander Caron. I am Warden-Lieutenant de Villars." The leader of the small troop was a woman, seated atop a glossy black charger and wearing leather armour. She was pretty, Nate thought, in a tough, no-nonsense way, her eyes clear and blue, her blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail. "Well, what are you waiting for? Inform Commander Caron of our arrival." Her Orlesian accent was pronounced and her tone crisp. Clearly, she was used to being in charge.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Nate stepped closer, taking hold of her horse's reins. "Welcome to the Keep, Lieutenant. I am Nathaniel Howe, Commander Caron's second-in-command. Allow me to take you to her office." He put just the right amount of steel in his voice to let her know he wasn't a mere errand boy.

The woman seemed undaunted, but she did allow him to help her out of the saddle. Once on the ground, she had to tilt her head back to see his face, but that didn't stop her from looking him over at her own leisure, a critical frown between her expressive eyebrows as her eyes wandered slowly down his whole body. And then, suddenly, she favoured him with a bright smile. "With pleasure, Warden Howe. I can't wait to see dear Alix. We are very old friends, you see."

Clearly, he had passed inspection. Nate silently congratulated himself for having put on his full Warden armour earlier today, when he'd met up with a group of merchants from Amaranthine. He had a feeling that his old hunting leathers wouldn't have gone over quite so well.

"Follow me, please. Your Wardens can wait in the Great Hall. I'll have someone bring them food and drinks. And our grooms will take care of your horses." He motioned for her to come with him, and she fell into step next to him.

They ran into Anders on their way up to Alix' suite, and when Nate introduced him, the Orlesian Warden nodded approvingly. "I see Alix has found herself another mage for her Wardens. Good choice. It is always helpful to have magical support in battle, don't you think?"

Alix was at her desk, poring over some papers, when Nate opened the door to announce their visitor, and for a moment she looked confused, almost dazed. But then a sweet smile lit up her whole face, and she jumped to her feet. "Manon! Oh, ma chère, I had no idea you were coming! I've missed you so much." There was genuine joy on her face as she pulled her friend into a tight hug, and Nate's chest constricted painfully at the sight of it. He hadn't seen her smile so happily since the night of Sigrun's Joining.

Alix had retreated into her shell again in the weeks since Fergus Cousland's visit, locking herself up for hours in her office all by herself, instead of allowing him to join her and help with the workload, as she'd done before. Nate had apologised to her, of course, and she'd graciously forgiven him, but something had changed that day. It was as if she had taken a step back from him, from all of them, and become the Orlesian stranger once more. And it hurt him to see it, hurt him that she had so easily given up on them.

But there was nothing to be done. It was her choice, after all. All he could do was offer his support, and if she didn't want it, he had no right to expect more. Muttering his goodbyes, he left the two of them to their happy chatter. At least Alix was happy again, for the time being.

"Manon. It's so good to see you. But what brings you to Ferelden?" Reluctantly, Alix let go of Manon.

"Commander Clarel wants to learn more about those talking Darkspawn you've encountered. She asked for volunteers for a mission to Ferelden, and of course I immediately asked to go." Manon smiled brightly. "But let's talk of that later. We have so much to catch up with."

They settled in front of the fireplace together, with two glasses of rich red wine, and for a few hours, Alix allowed herself to forget all about her present duties. It was such a relief to speak her own language again, to laugh and cry with Manon, to let down her guard and just be herself. It took quite a while for them to go over all that had transpired since Alix had left Jader two years earlier. There was so much gossip to share, so many intrigues to discuss. So many friends and comrades to mourn, too, because death and loss and pain were familiar companions for every Warden.

When they had finally caught up with all that had happened since they'd parted, the room briefly fell silent, the crackling of the wood in the fireplace the only sound to be heard.

Manon was watching Alix, fiddling with her goblet and nibbling thoughtfully on her lower lip. When she spoke again, a sly smile was playing around her lips. "Tell me more about this Nathaniel Howe, will you?"

"What is there to tell?" Alix kept her tone carefully nonchalant. "He was one of my first Wardens here, and he's been a great asset. A highly skilled archer, and he has a deft hand for locks, too. Not quite in the same league as you, but-"

"Alix!" Manon interrupted her with an impressive eyeroll. "You know very well that's not what I want to hear about. Well, not just," she amended. "I'm glad you've surrounded yourself with able fighters. But really…" Her voice turned into a suggestive purr. "Those lovely wide shoulders? The voice, the eyes, the broody look? Ma chère, if I'd known you have such gorgeous men among your Wardens, I'd have come sooner. Here I thought you were lost among the barbaric Fereldans, but I see I have underestimated them considerably."

"Ah. Well, in that case, I'm sorry to disappoint you." Alix shook her head. "Nate is with Anders. They've been together for quite some time now."

"The mage?" Manon raised an eyebrow. "He's very pretty, too. Such a pity, if they're both into men. Think you could persuade them to let you watch, at least?"

"Well… as a matter of fact…" Alix wasn't even sure where the urge to confide in Manon was coming from. But she really needed to talk to someone, someone who would understand and who wouldn't judge her. Quickly, she related the events of First Day's Eve.

Manon's bright blue eyes were wide as saucers. "Really? How very generous of them." She licked her lips. "And… was it good?"

"More than just good." Alix sighed at the memory. "Amazing."

Manon laughed, but it sounded a tad forced. "Damn it, Alix. I should have known. You have always been such a lucky bitch."

"Have I?" The sudden flash of bitterness almost made her choke. "You mean, like with Philippe?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean!" Manon shook her head, unperturbed. "Now, don't look at me like that! The two of you had – what? – seven, eight years together? That's a hell of a lot more than most Wardens get, and you know it."

Alix didn't reply. Crude as Manon was, she had a point. She would never stop grieving Philippe, but at least they'd been together, they'd been happy. Few others ever got so lucky. With a pang, she remembered Manon's last lover, a dark-haired Antivan mage who had died during her first foray into the Deep Roads. The girl hadn't been much older than twenty. Alix shivered.

Manon herself seemed to have chosen to focus on other things. "So… you say you have an open invitation to their room, whenever you want?"

"Well, more or less." Alix felt her cheeks heat up. "Nate implied that-"

"And how often have you availed yourself of that privilege?" Manon winked at her.

"I… Once." Alix was beginning to be a bit irritated. "I was depressed and lonely after Sigrun's Joining, and-"

"Once?" Manon's conspiratorial expression had given way to sheer horror. "But, ma chère, what is wrong with you? If I was in your place, once a week wouldn't be enough!"

"Look, I'm their Commander!" Alix shook her head. "I can't just-"

"And why not?" Manon snorted contemptuously. "We are Wardens, Alix, not Templars. We don't have to claim the moral high ground all the time."

"But if the others should find out-" Alix didn't manage to finish the sentence.

"So bloody what!" Manon sounded almost angry. "Look, you of all people should know how soon it can all be over. There's no point in denying yourself a bit of happiness. Or them," she added with a sly grin. "I bet they wouldn't mind a repeat either. The way Nate was looking at you before he left…" She made a rude gesture with her hand. "I'm sure he'd be up for more."

"Maybe he would." Alix sighed. "But really, Manon, what would be the point? They're happy together, and I don't want to mess up things for them."

Manon's eyebrows flew up. "Don't you think that's up to them to decide? I mean, from what you said they were clearly both enthusiastic about the idea. Doesn't sound as if they are half as worried as you are."

"Maybe." Alix was beginning to regret confiding in Manon. "Still, the whole thing has no future. Why would I-"

"Well, I think the why is pretty obvious in this case, don't you think?" Manon shook her head again. "Really, if it was me… But of course, it's none of my business. You do what you want."

Yeah, sure. Alix didn't believe for a moment that Manon was ready to let the topic go so quickly. She had seen first-hand how Alix had suffered in the weeks and months after Philippe's departure, and she had done her best ever since to ensure her friend found happiness again. Of course she'd had little success so far, but Alix was certain she meant well.

And maybe, just maybe, this time she had a point.

Anders had volunteered to take care of the Orlesian Wardens. He was genuinely curious about them, and besides, Nate had all but disappeared after their arrival. The three men from Jader had gone out of their way to be polite, accepting the offered food and wine without any complaints about the unfamiliar fare. Anders didn't know enough of their language to follow their conversation, but the looks that the youngest of them – a tall warrior with a shock of auburn hair – had given him had been eloquent enough. He hadn't flirted back, though, at least not much. He had little interest in anyone but Nate these days.

The other two guys were happily carousing with two of the kitchen maids by the time Anders left the Great Hall to go looking for Nate. He had to admit that it made for a nice change to have visitors from outside, and he rather hoped there'd be more time to chat with them later.

But it was the woman, their leader, that really intrigued him. Manon de Villars was definitely a character, blunt to the point of rudeness, and yet, Anders wondered if her apparent candour was just a front. Judging from her armour and weapons - two wicked looking daggers and an assortment of smaller knives and caltrops – she preferred an altogether more subtle approach. Anders hadn't missed the sharp intelligence in her eyes when she'd looked him over. Besides, Nate had mentioned that she was an old friend of Alix', which was promising in itself. Maybe they could get her to talk, to learn more about Alix' past, and maybe even get her to relax and open up a little again.

Anders hadn't really discussed it with Nate, but he was disappointed by the recent turn of events. He would have loved to explore his magical connection to Alix further, but the last time he'd tentatively tried to reach out for her, he'd found the old barriers firmly in place. And if he was honest, he was hurt by her rejection. After all, he hadn't said or done anything to push her away. Sure, Nate had been an idiot, but there had been reasons for his behaviour, and-

"There you are!" And here was Nate, finally, up on the battlements, leaning against the parapet with a dark frown on his face. "Where have you been all day?"

"Trying to ditch my pursuer," Nate growled, pulling him into a loose embrace. "No, don't look! She's over there, in the dark corner by the tower, and she thinks I haven't seen her." He snorted contemptuously, but he kept his voice carefully down. "As if I could miss her! That woman has been shadowing me for most of the afternoon. She's worse than a hungry mabari, I'm telling you."

"What woman? Manon?" Anders was more surprised than he let on. "Why would she follow you around? I mean, if there's anything she wants to know, she could just ask."

"Somehow I have a feeling that's not her style. But hey," Nate's tone changed, turning playful rather than angry, and now he was pulling Anders closer, running both hands down his back. "Maybe we ought to give her something to look at."

Anders gasped involuntarily. "Nate, you're crazy. Why-"

"Why not?" Before Anders could quite process the answer, Nate had him pressed against the wall of a small tower, grinding against him.

"Because someone could see us?" Anders rolled his eyes, but Nate's hot mouth on his throat was making a very convincing argument for his suggestion.

"That's sort of the point, isn't it?" Nate's grin was decidedly predatory. "Didn't you say you used to do stuff like this all the time?"

And of course, it was true. Back in his Tower days, Anders wouldn't have batted an eyelid at a quick tryst in the corner. But he'd expected Nate to be a lot more worried about propriety. Yet, here they were, out in the open, making out enthusiastically, and Nate was obviously immensely turned on by the whole setup. Their bodies perfectly aligned for maximum friction, and Anders could feel Nate, the whole length of him, through the thin leather of his breeches, and it was intoxicating, making his skin tingle all over. Nate's nimble hands had already succeeded in untying the sash of his robes, baring his chest, and Anders shivered in the cool evening breeze.

"Damn, you're so hot." Nate was panting now, running his hands all over Anders' chest and stomach, further down, going straight for the kill.

Anders' brain kept reminding him that Manon was there, watching, that one of the guards could walk in on them every moment, but when Nate's hand found his cock, there was no way to stop the long, low whine that escaped his throat. It just felt so damn good, the callouses on Nate's fingers as he wrapped them around him, exerting just the right amount of pressure to coax him to full hardness.

"Damn it, Nate. If we do this…" Anders pushed Nate back a little and reached for the laces of his pants. "Then I want to touch you, too."

Nate moaned, deep in his throat, reaching down to help him, and moments later, he was bare, too, magnificently hard and eager, his skin burning like fire under Anders' touch. "Maker, yes. Don't stop."

Anders had no intention of doing so, of course. Instead, he pulled Nate closer again, so he could wrap his fingers around both of them, and then he took a deep breath and focussed. It was always hard to get the amount of magic right, but judging from Nate's stifled gasp, this time he'd succeeded to perfection.

"Again," Nate demanded, staring down at his hand, panting so hard that Anders could see his chest rise and fall. "Damn it, Anders, do that again."

"You sure?" Carefully, he adjusted his grip before reaching for his power again. "This might be over fast, if we're not careful." A second charge flowed from his fingers, and this time he felt Nate twitch in his grasp, felt him shudder all over.

"I don't care. Fast is good." Nate closed his eyes, biting his lip so hard that Anders was afraid he'd hurt himself. "Fuck, this is so… One more."

Smiling, Anders complied, toning the charge down just the tiniest bit. He didn't want Nate to come, not yet. It was far too delicious to keep him hovering on the edge a little longer.

This time, Nate moaned aloud, too far gone to care about their audience. Or maybe he had forgotten about Manon altogether, Anders wasn't sure. He himself was past caring, past worrying about anything else but Nate's pleasure, Nate's cock, hot and heavy in his hand, Nate's hands scrambling for purchase on his back before they finally settled on his ass, pulling him in even closer.

"Anders…" And now he started thrusting, pushing himself into Anders' grip without shame or hesitation, burying his face against Anders' neck to stifle his moans.

And suddenly, everything was far too intense, far too overwhelming for any kind of games, magical or otherwise, and Anders found himself moving in the same rhythm, hard and fast, his whole being focussed on the slide of Nate's cock against his, so good, so perfect. One, two, three more thrusts, and his orgasm hit him, so hard that he actually cried out, glad for Nate's arms supporting him, because his knees had turned into jelly, and his heart was pounding like mad.

Nate made a small noise in the back of his throat, grabbing him harder, grinding against him in a last, desperate thrust, and then he was coming, too, coming for what felt like an eternity, coming in great, heaving spurts all over Anders' hand and stomach. It was messy and rough and unrefined, and it was glorious.

"Nate. Fuck, I…" His throat felt tight with emotion, and scratchy from screaming. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." Nate sounded dazed, but he was smiling like a madman, and he didn't seem in a hurry to cover up.

His right hand had come to rest on Anders' stomach, and he was stroking him in soft circles, massaging their combined juices into his skin. Anders shivered pleasantly, but then a small noise from behind made him twitch, and Nate laughed softly. "All right. Let's get you dressed again."

Together, they managed a quick clean-up before tucking themselves away. Nate carefully straightened out his robes, looking him over with a critical frown. "There. As good as new."

"Thanks." Anders ran a hand through his hair. It felt tousled and slightly damp, but there was nothing he could do about that now. "Is she still there?" he mouthed at Nate.

Nate nodded, almost imperceptibly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well, then. Let's go join the others, shall we?"

Anders followed him down the stairs, just barely resisting the urge to turn around and look for Manon. I wonder what she will make of this?

All the hugs and thanks to my wonderful and amazing beta suilven.