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XXX

The next morning, everything seemed a little less bleak.

I had thought I was alone in life, but a heavy body beside me on the bed reminded me that was not true. Granted, my mabari Wolf was not the greatest conversationalist and he tended to shed coarse scratchy hair everywhere, but he was loyal and utterly trustworthy. He huffed in his sleep as I threw the covers off and dressed quickly in the chilly air.

When I opened the door Wolf awoke, sensed breakfast, and flopped off the bed to pad along beside me. It was still early, and the castle was quiet.

No matter how early I rose, there was always one person awake before me. Tian sat at the table, a book open before her. She ate absentmindedly while reading.

Tian was the leader of the Grey Wardens who had strengthened our numbers following the Blight. She began to defer to me shortly after they arrived, once she had established that I was suitable. Tian was more of a mother hen than a military commander. I could picture her leading the Wardens over the mountains, them trotting behind her in a line like ducklings following their mother.

Tian was around forty years old, but her hair was still raven black, pulled into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were a piercing blue, with deep crow's feet at the corners when she laughed. She was a big woman – not fat, but there was more to her than muscle. She had been a blacksmith before she was recruited into the Wardens and she still had the big physique. She didn't like to talk about the circumstances surrounding her recruitment and Joining. I got the impression that she was the only one who had survived.

I knew how that felt, of course. I still wore the amulet under my armour. Tian always wore hers too, on a long chain so that it hung over her heart.

I was trying to keep my thoughts off dismal topics, so instead I concentrated on spreading butter on the freshly baked bread set out on the table. There is no comfort food in all of Ferelden better than bread still warm from the baker's oven, liberally spread with creamy butter.

Tian waved me to sit beside her, pushing her book to one side.

'Good morning, Naia.' The Orlesian accent that had sounded so clipped coming from Ser Morain sounded like warm honey in Tian's mellow voice. 'Did you sleep well?'

I shrugged. 'You know. The usual.' The bad dreams we all experienced as Grey Wardens had lessened somewhat since the archdaemon died, but they popped up now and again. I knew Tian suffered with them quite badly. They seemed to grow worse as a Warden aged.

'Ah, you'll need a clear head for today. Tam is not happy. He and Ser Morain do not see eye to eye.'

'Does Morain get along with anybody?' I asked flippantly.

She laughed. 'Very few, I think. I imagine Aric will make sure they do not meet.' Aric and Tam were inseparable. Sometimes it seemed they could communicate without speaking.

'Do I need to know the details?'

'I do not know them to tell. You should also be aware that Ser Morain will have questions for you about what you intend to accomplish here. Where our money comes from, and so on.' She waved a hand dismissively. 'And I think the other Wardens will all have questions about the Blight. You have a busy day ahead.'

'Is there any other kind?' Since we had taken over the running of Amaranthine, granted to the Grey Wardens by Queen Anora in recognition of our efforts, there had been plenty to do. I wished I had paid a little more attention to my father when he had tried to teach me about the running of our estates. I had not been a bad pupil, but there was always more to learn.

Since Tian was not forthcoming with the one piece of information I really wanted to know, I had to steel myself to ask.

'What happened to the prisoner?'

Tian gave me an all-too-knowing look. 'Tam gave him a room up in the Quarters.' This was the floor of the castle where all the Wardens slept, including me. Though I could have had the ruler's large suite to myself, it had been Howe's before we moved in. Sleeping there would have felt wrong. Instead I had turned it into a makeshift armoury. The sword I had used to kill Howe had pride of place.

'Oh.' I had been quiet too long, but I had no idea what to say without saying too much.

Wolf pushed his nose into my knee under the table and whined. Would revealing so much to Tian really be such a bad thing? I wondered.

'I don't know what his plans are, but I don't imagine they include returning to Montsimmard with Morain. Perhaps you should ask him if he intends to stay.' She sounded just a little too innocent. 'I mean, so you know about... numbers and so on.'

'I doubt he'll want to stay.'

'Why ever would he not? After what you did for him yesterday... Perhaps he has changed his mind about you.'

I stared at her. Could she read my mind?

She laughed. 'I'm not a mind-reader, you know. But I did have several long conversations with Zevran, before he left last time. All night conversations. I wonder when he's coming back?' She stirred her tea, gazing wistfully into the depths of the mug.

'What did he have to say?' I squeaked. Zevran knew a lot of things that I didn't want to be publicly known.

She looked around to make sure nobody else was in the room. 'He told me enough to know that your little performance yesterday was just that. I imagine when Alistair heard the details it confused what he thought he knew about your feelings for him. And your feelings for Zev.'

'Zev does have a tendency to exaggerate those,' I said. The former Crow had a tendency to exaggerate a lot – particularly the events of the days (but mostly the nights) after I realised Alistair wasn't coming back. To listen to Zev tell it, we had stalked Denerim like alley cats, breaking hearts and beds wherever we went.

Some of it was true. I had needed a time of cleansing, to purge all the feelings I had wanted to let go of but been unable to. I didn't regret it, but I didn't want to live the rest of my life that way. When I explained this to Zev, he shrugged philosophically and moved on. He still flirted shamelessly with me every time he returned, but we both knew he wasn't what I needed any more. It wouldn't have worked for him either. Staying in one place made him irritable. The last time I heard from him, he was working for Anora. There was only one thing he was likely to be doing for her. I hoped that a return to his former trade made him happy.

'Regardless, you won't resolve the situation by avoiding it,' Tian said. 'You can sit and discuss it with me until you are blue in the face, but it will get you nowhere. I'm not suggesting you go and bang on his door this early in the morning, but you should speak to him today.'

It was the same advice I would have given if our situations were reversed, but that didn't make it any easier to take.

XXX

My position came with responsibility, and whatever else was on my mind I couldn't neglect it. I had a list of things to do today, and so I set about doing them.

First up, a meeting with the castle steward. He had been here back in Howe's time, but I was reasonably sure he was loyal to us. Howe was not a kind man, and he didn't treat his servants well. Or their families. That kind of behaviour doesn't inspire love and loyalty.

I left the meeting an hour later with a long list of things we 'needed' to run the household. I didn't remember Highever being quite as high-maintenance as Amaranthine was turning out to be. Finding out why was just another job to add to the list – one I might turn over to Aric. He had a head for figures that I did not.

I spent most of the rest of the day in my office fielding questions from the Orlesian Wardens about the Blight and about Orzammar, about the archdaemon, the darkspawn and about Duncan. Some of them had known him well, or had enquiries from acquaintances he had left behind.

By the time the dinner bell rang, I had a thumping headache and my tongue ached from all the talking.

'There's one more person here to see you, Lady,' said Erina, my secretary and the steward's daughter, poking her head around the door.

'Who is it?'

'The other Warden, the young man Ser Morain brought.'

I rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the headache but failing. What I wouldn't give for one of Wynne's pain relieving spells right now! In the bustle of the day I had all but forgotten that I had to face Alistair today. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had also forgotten to have lunch. I wondered when my duty had become so important that I forgot about my own needs and wants. It had never been a conscious decision, but had crept up on me quickly after the Landsmeet, I decided.

'Send him in,' I said. I stayed seated behind my desk as though behind a protective barricade.

He bowed his head once nervously as he entered, and sat down opposite me.

Neither of us spoke for a long time.

'Well, this is awkward,' he said. There was a trace of his old familiar wit there, but there was also a bitterness I had not heard from him before.

'It is,' I agreed. 'How have you been?'

'Oh, sodding wonderful. Hungry, cold, wet, poor. And that's not even counting the time I've spent in cells. There's been entirely too much of that, thank you.'

Normally so good natured, Alistair's moods had always come as a bit of a shock. He barely ever sulked, but when he did, there was just no talking to him. Before the Landsmeet, the few times he had done this, I had ignored him until he pulled himself together. It wasn't the best solution, but I had a bad temper when riled and was too easily drawn into arguments that could spiral out of control.

'The other Wardens all looked at me as though I'm a traitor,' he said. 'None of them give a damn about what really happened.'

'"What really happened" is a subject of some debate,' I said wryly. 'It could have been much worse.'

'I... yes. About that. I owe you some thanks. Morain would have killed me.'

'He would.' I steeled myself. 'I take it you have stayed because you wish to rejoin the Grey Wardens?'

He said nothing, so I took that as a silent assent.

'You would be welcome here. Maker knows, we need all the Wardens we can get. But there are rules that must be followed.'

'I admit, I haven't liked your methods in the past. But outside the Wardens, outside the Chantry, outside the Templars... Well. It turns out there are some very bad people out there. So I can follow your rules.' He didn't sound too eager to obey, and I wondered how much of his wish to come back was born of necessity, not desire.

'Your fellow Wardens need to know that they can trust you to follow orders without hesitation. They need to know that you will be there with them, come what may.' I sat forward, my elbows on the desk and my hands clasped together. My fingers felt shaky. I put it down to hunger.

'Oh, I see. This is about Loghain again, isn't it?'

I had meant it in a more general way than that, but he was right. My pride and my position warned me not to let him see that he had scored a hit by salting that wound.

'This is about many things, Alistair. Can we trust you?'

He stared at the fire miserably. 'I need the Wardens. I'm not much of a leader, I know that. I'm too trusting. I would have made a terrible King. I need someone to protect me from myself. Even after everything that's happened, I'd like that to be you.'

While I tried to work out which part of that speech to respond to first, he shook his head crossly.

'Wait, I didn't mean to sound so pathetic. If I had been King, Eamon would have been there to help. If I had stayed with the Wardens, you would have been there to give me some friendly advice. Without either of you, I got into a bit of trouble. Maybe I'll tell you about it later, when I feel like less of a fool.' He gave a hopeful smile.

I understood. All his life he had lived in order and routine. He had never been prepared for the freedom and chaos of the outside world. It sounded like his decision-making strategy – to close his eyes and point blindly – had not served him well.

I returned his smile. 'I could be waiting a while, then.'

He laughed at that. 'I'll behave, I promise.'

'See that you do. Look, I have some things I need to do right now. Meet me in the armoury after the supper bell. I have something for you.'

XXX

The armoury was deserted at this hour. The other Wardens were attending a late night weapons practice in the courtyard and I itched to go join them. I fingered the twin blades at my back. Perhaps I would have time for a little practice myself tonight. It wouldn't do for the leader to let her combat skills slip, after all. I wasn't the fastest or the strongest by a long way, but I liked to think I had a few tricks of my own. Too much sitting behind a desk would slow me down.

And hitting something with a sword is great for relieving tension, I reminded myself.

Weapons practice was a serious business in the castle. The Wardens wore real armour and used real swords while duelling. The only thing that stopped someone getting seriously hurt were our mages. They could put an impenetrable barrier around each fighter that stopped serious injury. We'd tried it out in real fights, but it required too much concentration to be effective there.

Concentration was something I had been sadly lacking in these last two days. After two years of isolation, two different men had got under my skin in two days. A leader must be focussed, I reminded myself. Remember Duncan. He was always a leader, even when not on duty.

I cannot let things slide, especially now, I told myself. Ser Morain had given me information today that I had been unaware of before. We had defeated one Blight, but this time the Wardens believed the darkspawn would not allow four hundred years to pass before launching another. They were planning something, though we had no idea what it was yet. We had to remain vigilant, we had to build and strengthen our position. I couldn't do any of that if I was not focussed.

I needed my men to be focussed as well. I rummaged through a chest in the armoury, peeling aside oiled wrappers and making an untidy pile of discarded items on the floor beside me.

I heard the door open and close behind me.

'Reporting, ma'am,' said Alistair. I had never insisted on being addressed as a Commander, and from his tone I thought he was gently mocking me.

'Ah, here it is,' I straightened up. 'You remember Riordan, from the Landsmeet? He told us about the existence of a cache of Grey Warden weapons. By the time we got around to sorting through them all, you had left.'

He looked at his feet, though I had not intended it as another rebuke.

'I've tried to model myself on Duncan,' I said. 'He was the epitome of everything a Grey Warden should be. He was utterly dedicated. He was not caught up in the petty squabbles he saw around him every day. When others shied away, he made difficult decisions. Some would say they were the wrong decisions, but he was a moral man and when he chose a dangerous path he did it for the right reasons.

'Being a Grey Warden, following Duncan's example, is not easy. We have to put our personal feelings aside, which is one of the hardest things for a person to do. We have a duty, and if we fail nobody will do it for us.

'I asked you here to give you this.' I passed the bundle over to him. He peeled off the cloths and his eyes widened as he revealed Duncan's shield.

'This was Duncan's!'

'Yes, it was. I think he would have wanted you to have it. Look on the back.'

He turned it over and read the inscription. 'In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.'

'I think he'd want to remind you of that.'

'Are you trying to make me feel guilty? I already do, you know.'

'I'm trying to remind you of your duty,' I chided gently.

'Consider me reminded, ma'am.' He threw a cheeky salute and walked away. I saw the unshed tears in his eyes and knew that his memories would be a better reminder than my words ever could.

As he reached the door, he stopped. He looked down at the shield and sighed. 'Duncan wasn't perfect. He was all of those things you said, but he should have made time to live a little of his life for himself. A balance can be struck between responsibility to your soldiers, and responsibility to yourself.'

'I tried that,' I said sadly. 'It didn't turn out well. This way is better.'

'Looks like I'm not the only one who needs saving from myself,' he muttered as he closed the door.