When they struck camp in the morning it was barely light and the smell of smoke hung heavy in the air. Cullen said nothing, only pressed his lips into a smaller line and hastily saddled his tall horse. All the animals were skittish and shied nervously at the smallest provocation. The mood was passed onto the humans, who rode without speaking, sitting rigid in their saddles.

After riding awhile in the growing daylight, Eleanor moved her grey mare closer to Cullen's horse. "Have you noticed," she asked in a low voice, "there are no birds singing, no insects?"

Cullen didn't answer. He was watching the sky, his eyes ticking back and forth over the horizon under his lowered brows. Eleanor looked at him for a moment and then also turned looked up at the sky.

"What is that?"

A dark shape was hovering just above the skyline, coming out of the column of smoke that rose from the mountains to the south. She squinted. It circled the ridge ahead then began to move north toward them. Not birds, she thought. It was too solid, not made up of individual animals. What could it be?

The horses began to whinny. Several started rearing onto their hind legs. The guards cursed and tried to control them. The flying shadow came closer, making a strange screeching as it approached. Ana's eyes rolled and her ears lay flat, but she stood still, quivering. Cullen held his horse in check with the reins clutched tightly in his fists, though the frightened animal turned in place. He glared at the sky.

It was nearly upon them before the shape clicked in her mind: long neck, tail, large wings, all that was missing were spouts of flame and it would look just like the tapestry in the upper corridor in the palace. A dragon, in the open daylight, flying directly over them.

"Maker's breath," she breathed, hardly daring to speak aloud. The horses were shrieking now, the scent of reptile strong in their noses. Four broke and ran, the guards atop them shouting and sawing at the reins to regain control.

The beast overhead circled directly above them, peering down. It came very low, and Eleanor's heart thudded in her chest to think that it might land on the road before them. Cullen put his hand on his sword and drew it out so that three inches of the steel showed above the scabbard. He did not take his eyes from the dragon and it seemed to stare right back at him as it passed, wheeled, and turned, heading south again toward the Grey Warden fortress.

Cullen slammed his sword back into the sheath as it retreated and lowered his eyes from the sky. Eleanor realized she had been holding her breath, and let it out in a whoosh. She leaned forward to pat Ana's neck. The horse was so nervous that she jumped at the touch of her mistress. She turned her face toward Eleanor and regarded her with her gentle brown eyes.

"Sorry, girl," she murmured.

"We shall have to go on without the others," Cullen said, looking around and noting the two remaining guardsmen. "They will have to catch up; we have no time to wait." He spurred his horse and they moved on at a quick canter.

"What does it mean?" Eleanor asked, raising her voice over the sound of the hooves. "A dragon? The smoke?"

"I don't know."

His face looked so grim that she fell silent and didn't speak again until they reached the outer gate of Ostagar. The guard peered over the wooden staves at the top of the wall. Once he recognized Cullen, he hurried to pull the barrier out of the way so they could enter. Eleanor tried not to gawk as the horses walked through the entrance and turned tiredly to the sound of running water and other animals. Neither she nor her brother had visited the Grey Warden's fortress, though she knew her parents made occasional trips. She had only heard stories about Ostagar. According to her parents, it was a place of destiny and bad memories, where they had met at the beginning of the Blight, and where the last king of Ferelden had met his fate. They had never been very specific about the appearance of the place, and immediately its vastness and age impressed her.

The area directly inside the northern gate was an open grassy field. A well-worn path lead the way to the stable, which was snugged against the north wall. Next to it, judging from the noise, was the mabari kennel. Bales of hay were propped against the wall of the stable, and an open well with a trough gurgled between the two buildings. Columns of pale stone rose from the walls and tapered to delicate arches high above. The walls ahead that marked the edge of the field were thick and cut the rest of the fortress off from view. A set of two wide stairways lead downward, following the slope of the land. Eleanor could just see what she guessed were the outer walls rising some distance away.

The smoke was thinner when they arrived, but still rose noticeably from the south side of the wall. The fortress was a hive of activity and shouting. Men ran back and forth on the battlements and through the grassy area behind the wall that blocked the valley to the south. Some carried equipment; some were running messages. Eleanor saw an elf bent almost double under a huge bundle of arrows he was trying to carry.

As they came closer to the stables, a young man ran forward to take the reins and lead the lathered horses away. Eleanor quickly grabbed her bow and quiver from Ana's back. Cullen swung off the saddle and immediately began striding toward a tent near an enclosed area on the west side of the clearing. Eleanor and the two remaining guards followed him. When he reached teh tent, he pushed the tent flap up and walked inside without pausing. The guards halted outside the tent, but Eleanor crowded inside behind him. The tent was undecorated except for a low table and chair. Several sets of armor and weapons were displayed on racks.

He was already talking rapidly to a dwarven woman in plain heavy armor. Her face was turned up to him and she nodded several times. Eleanor stepped closer to Cullen as he finished speaking, escaping his notice for the moment, but not that of the smaller warrior.

"Atrast vala, Princess," said the woman, bowing to her. Cullen glanced back over his shoulder, apparently having forgotten that she followed him.

"My apologies," he said. "This is Thorin, my second in command."

Thorin bowed again, the beads in her blonde hair clinking together.

"Please, what's been happening here?" Eleanor asked. "Did you see the dragon? Where did it come from?"

Thorin took a breath and darted a glance at Cullen, who nodded. No secrets, then. She clasped her hands behind her back and began pacing the short length of the tent as she spoke.

"The Chasind began to gather in large numbers in the valley to the south about a week ago. We became suspicious, as they normally don't congregate in such large numbers this far north, and barred the main gate through the fortress. They have set up a good-sized camp outside the walls."

Cullen crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

"The night after the Commander left for Denerim," Thorin continued in a businesslike voice, "they began pressing an attack against the gate and scaling the walls. At first we were able to hold them off but it quickly became serious. We... that is- I underestimated their numbers." She squared her shoulders as if expecting reprimand for her misjudgment. None came. The lines in Cullen's face seemed set in stone.

"I sent Warren to Denerim and Alpert to Redcliffe for reinforcements and called in a few small groups of Wardens I knew to be in the area, in Lothering and South Reach. And we've held them since. No heavy losses, just a constant attack and retreat by the Chasind. Had to fire the grass just outside the wall to keep the ladders back. I don't know what they aim to accomplish."

"And the dragon?"

"As far as we can tell, she either came from within the camp or just south of it. Saw her go out and come back in. I thought for sure she was coming for us, especially after we put some arrows in her, but she landed out of sight to the south. As I said, in the camp maybe."

Cullen still said nothing. He pulled off one gauntlet and ran his hand though his beard. He looked very tired and very old. Suddenly, an elf burst into the tent. He was young and wore a set of leather armor that looked new. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Commander? There's a group of Chasind outside the gates with an emissary. They want to speak with you."

Cullen's mouth jerked down even more at the corners. He exchanged a glance with Thorin, and then muttered, "Come with me," gesturing for Eleanor to follow him. The guards waiting outside fell in behind them.

"Hi, I'm Lauthrin. I've only been a Grey Warden for three months." The elf was trying to talk to Eleanor as she tried to keep up with Cullen. She glanced at him more closely as they walked and noticed the designs tattooed on his face in light ink. Dalish?

He opened his mouth to say more, but she cut him off. "Can we talk more later? I don't mean to be rude, but..." She waved a hand at Cullen's rapidly receeding back.

"Oh? Sure, sure." Lauthrin bobbed his head and fell back, leaving her free to catch up to the other Wardens.

They marched quickly across the grass to a short flight of crumbling stairs that lead up to a walkway above the main gate. Thorin paused at the top of the stairs, making a movement with her hand that made it clear they were not walking out onto the battlement. She had strapped a greatsword to her back before leaving the tent. The blade was nearly as long as the woman was tall but she looked like she knew how to use it. Eleanor followed her upturned gaze to a tower on the opposite side of the gate where two archers crouched in concealment. Three more Wardens with long bows waited near tall narrow slits in the outer wall. Only Cullen was visible to the Chasind outside the gates.

Cullen paced slowly out into the open middle of the wall. Eleanor caught her breath—he was heavily armored, but someone could catch him with an arrow if they wished it.

"Why have you attacked us?" He spread his arms wide, apparently at his ease, speaking down to the Chasind waiting outside the walls.

"It's not for me to say Ser," came the reply. The Chasind's voice was flat and uninflected. "My mistress bids me bring someone to parlay. She said a man and a girl-- a noble who would speak with the voice of the crown."

"Why should I go with you?" Cullen didn't hesitate, but he also didn't recognize the mention of another. Eleanor wondered if they did mean her and how they could know who she was if they did. The thoughts chased themselves in her mind as she bit her lip. What would they do? Was this what Duncan couldn't see?

"We would guarantee your safety. We would leave three of our chieftains in your camp in exchange. You will not be harmed. My mistress wishes to speak with you."

"Will she not come here and treat with me?" Cullen's voice rang out strong and challenging.

The Chasind chuckled but made no answer. The sound of it made gooseflesh rise on Eleanor's arms. She wished she could see who was speaking, but when she tried to lean up to peek over the top of the wall, Thorin pulled her back with a fierce look in her eyes. Ahead, Cullen paced back toward where they waited. He locked eyes first with the dwarf, then with Eleanor.

"You will have my reply within the hour," he said. He turned his back on the Chasind below and returned to where the women and guards waited.

Big thanks to Tarante11a for proofreading!