Here come another doozie chapter. And I just broke 20,000 words! A special thanks to YunikuRebekit for following and fifespice for reviewing every chappie so far! Your support encourages me to write more about Aela.

Chapter 5: The Right Time

If Morrigan, Alistair, and Aela had any expectations of Lothering being better than Ostagar, they were disappointed and saddened. The people were starving and frightened, the shopkeepers looked about nervously as they asked for more coin than usual, and the priests even seemed shaken with their faith.

Alistair followed Aela, who kept a hand on Duckling, as they entered the small village. He wondered about her war hound; they were proud and noble creatures, fierce and courageous as they were bulky and tough. They were also expensive. He knew it was possible for Aela to have stumbled upon him, but he also knew mabari pups were very expensive and rare, too expensive for a commoner to buy.

He knew Aela was a respectable lady, at least in the way she spoke and walked, but as far as blood went, he had no clue. She kept that part of herself a secret, and while he did the same about his own heritage, his curiosity grew with each hour they spent near each other. It was not a romantic interest, but a practical one; a noble couldn't just run or be taken from her family without news floating about. Whoever she was, though, she was a quick learner and his only Warden companion. He wanted to find out more about her, but it would take time.

They passed a cage along the way on the road before the houses rose into Lothering. The three fighters and hound stopped and looked at the Qunari inside. He looked at them with a vacant expression.

"Why is it your people find need in staring?" he said in a gruff voice. Duckling pulled his ears back and growled. Aela bowed her head.

"I'm sorry, I have never seen a Qunari in person before," she said politely.

The Qunari raised an eyebrow. "I am not a commodity. Leave me be to my fate."

"This is an execution cage," Alistair noted in Aela's ear. "Whatever he did, we don't want to know."

But Morrigan bravely approached the cage and put her hands on the bars. She leaned against the cage lazily and seductively. She grinned mischievously, tempted the giant in a dangerous way. "What sin have you committed to put you in here?" she asked nonchalantly. The beast had no expression at her courage.

"I killed a farming family," he said both bluntly and coldly. "And that act made the leader of your religious outpost confine me to my death. Asit tal-eb."

Aela twisted her mouth in thought. "Do you have a word or a name you call yourself?"

"You act as if you know some of my culture, saying I may be called a word instead," the man said with the tiniest hint of intrigue. "I am called Sten."

"So you were a general," Aela completed.

"I did not say that," Sten said.

"Sten would hale from Karasten. Commander, general, lieutenant, and so forth."

Sten's mouth twitched, but he did not move beyond that. Alistair, however, was picking up on the fact that Aela may have been educated far more than most. Another rare and expensive attribute. His head hurt from trying to keep up.

"Not anymore," he replied.

"Qunari never stop being what they are… What if I were to let you out, would you be my soldier?"

Alistair's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."

Morrigan looked over a pale shoulder with a smile on her face. "I'm beginning to like you."

"You ask me to be under your command?" Sten asked monotonously. "I am used to commanding, not being commanded."

"You are also used to being out of cages, I would think."

"Parshaara," Sten spat. "You use your words carefully, but I have accepted my fate. If it were to change, then so be it. Until then, I look to my death."

Aela took a moment to glare at him some more before she left the cage. She entered Lothering. Alistair caught up, brow furrowed.

"You know a lot," he noted. Aela scoffed and looked onward. Alistair grew annoyed. "How is it that someone with no history has a reason to learn etiquette and Qunari culture, and have a mabari war hound, and become a Grey Warden?"

Aela spun to face him, face angry. "I told you to drop the subject, Alistair."

Alistair frowned. "I am simply making an observation."

"Then keep those observations to yourself. Where I come from and what I have been through is dangerous information, and not what I'd like to share. Understand?"

He did, but he didn't want to admit it.

"King Cailan is dead, the Couslands are dead –" Aela's voice caught on her words, but she cleared her throat and plowed on through. "– and Loghain is probably working on usurping the throne. I would really like to stay out of that mess and focus on the darkspawn and I'm starting by asking you to mind your own business."

Alistair frowned, but did not stop her from returning to her brisk pace. He remembered Flemeth make a remark about how she had seen suffering within Aela. She was bottling it up, then, and he knew that was a danger to the mission. He had a hard time with Duncan's passing; it showed and maybe it was annoying, but it was better than pretending it didn't matter. Maybe she was afraid to grieve. Maybe she never had a chance to. Alistair grew worried for her.

They made their way into a tavern for supplies, leaving Duckling outside. Morrigan dodged unwelcome contact with the huge amount of people crowded inside, and she muttered under her breath about all the touching one went through in society, and made it clear that she hated it. Meanwhile, Aela looked simply uncomfortable. She looked around the inside of the building and had a despairing look on her face. Alistair was behind her when she turned to him.

"The only thing I will admit is that I am not sure what to do," she muttered. "I haven't been to many taverns."

Another clue for Alistair: high-class ladies had little use for common places like pubs. He couldn't help but smile at her. She had her adorable moments.

"We find the owner or shopkeeper and trade," Alistair informed. "Depending on what he has and what he wants, we look at his wares and he looks at ours."

"Just help me find him. We need to get out of here."

Alistair huffed and stood on his toes to look over the heads of desperate refugees and drunk regulars. There was a woman dressed in Chantry robes singing in the main area, and a clutch of suspicious-looking soldiers listened to her crudely. Beside her by the counter was the shopkeeper, who looked both exhausted and worried. Alistair made a move for him, Morrigan following and Aela trailing behind her.

Since the tavern was bursting with folk, Aela's petite body was thrashed around by the drunks swaying with the woman's song, and she smacked her hand into a soldier. She gave a small apology and moved on before she felt eyes on her.

"Oi!" a voice barked. "Woman!"

Aela faltered and looked over her shoulder. The soldier was looking at her, pint in hand and eyes inspecting. Another soldier stepped behind Aela, blocking her path to the shopkeeper. Morrigan grabbed Alistair to alert him as the soldier sneered.

"You're the Grey Warden from Ostagar, eh?" he growled. "The one that let our king fall!"

The tavern hushed. The woman stopped singing and she looked at Aela. Aela didn't pay her much attention. She merely lifted her hand and shook her head.

"You must have me mistaken for someone else," she said with a false smile.

"Shut it," the man hissed. "I'd recognize those looks if you were covered in shit. White hair, green eyes, so on and so on, and a bloody traitor."

"That is both a harsh and false accusation!" Aela replied.

"Teryn Loghain issued the order today that you and the other Grey Warden, probably that bloke over there –" He gestured at Alistair with his pint. "– be arrested and or killed, although I haven't decided which."

The Chantry woman, who had stopped singing, smiled and raised her hands in peace. "Gentleman, surely you cannot see this is a misunderstanding?"

Her accent made Aela blink before the man barked at her.

"I'm paying you to sing, tavern bitch!" the soldier drunkenly yelled. "So start singing!"

The woman glared and pursed her lips. "As you wish."

She began to sing a different hymn once she turned around.

"O Maker, O Maker, your breath gives us life…" she began to sing. The soldier grabbed onto Aela harshly. She yelped, suddenly tiny and scared. Alistair jumped and threw his hand to his sword. But in one swift movement, the singer grabbed a bottle from the counter and whirled around. A swirl of skirts and fiery red hair, and she smashed the glass bottle over the soldier's head.

"…it gives us courage against all strife…" she continued without faltering, a smile on her lips. The soldier grunted and fell, letting go of Aela and falling to the floor.

She did not miss a beat in her song, and when the tavern exploded, she did not stop. Soldiers drew their swords and tried to attack Alistair and Aela while they put up their defenses. The singer leapt onto the bar and lifted her skirts for her to deliver a graceful and yet deadly kick to another soldier's head. He fell.

"…and one day soon you'll kiss the earth…"

Alistair punched another soldier into the Fade. Aela, however, was not trained for offensive, but defensive, and the lead soldier grabbed her and began to haul her through the crowd. The singer swiped a dagger from thin air – or some customer's pocket – and grabbed the soldier. She smashed her fist into his mouth. His head snapped back and he released Aela and fell onto his chest. She wrenched his head back and rested the blade on his throat.

"…and join us with your ashen wife." The song stopped and she smiled. The rest of the soldiers stopped as their leader wrestled againt the singer's red steel grip. "Shall I keep singing, then?"

Alistair laughed in awe while Morrigan smiled, impressed. Aela stepped back and caught her breath. The rest of the tavern ws quiet save for the groaning and moaning soldiers that had fallen.

"Wench! Chantry whore!" the soldier grunted. The woman pressed the blade harder against his neck. He flapped his arms. "Okay, okay, I yield!"

The woman didn't let go. She gave a beautiful laugh that made Aela's heart flutter strangely. "Surely, you understand that these people are simply travelers looking for food and drink."

"I am no fool!"

"Please don't make me kill you, I really don't want to ruin my shoes."

Aela placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. It was bizarre to pull a Chantry woman from a soldier. But the woman blinked and looked up at her.

"It's alright," Aela said. The woman let go of the soldier, who flipped onto his back and glared at Aela. "Do you like your life?" she asked coldly.

The soldier spat on her boots. She cringed. She ripped Biter out of its sheathe and tore Duncan's dagger from her back. She stomped onto the soldier's chest and thrust Biter under his chin. The soldier sucked in a breath.

"Yes, of course I do!" he hissed.

"Then I'll let you live if you deliver a message to Loghain."

The soldier sneered. "Fine."

Aela grew very manic. "Tell him the Grey Wardens are coming for him. Tell him they know the truth about everything he has done.

The soldier took a moment before nodding once. "Alright. Just let me go."

The Grey Warden raised an eyebrow before she jabbed her sword against the side of his face. A gash along his cheek formed and the soldier cried out in shock. But he did not move to attack Aela. She smiled at the soldier.

"Take that as a token," she said, gesturing to her own cheek. "Now we match."

Once the soldiers filed out, some carrying others, Aela turned to the woman, who looked at her expectantly.

"That was impressive for a servant of the Chantry," Alistair mused.

The woman raised a humbling hand. "Oh, no, I am no longer a part of the Chantry. I left this morning."

"That's… not much of a change."

"Thank you for your help," Aela interrupted. "I am Aela, and these are my…" She didn't know what to call them. "…friends, Morrigan and Alistair."

"I am Leliana," the woman replied. She bowed gracefully. When she straightened up, she clasped her hands. "And I'll be coming with you."

The three party members looked at each other. The notion was so blunt and strange, they needed a moment.

"We aren't looking for priests," Aela said carefully.

Leliana scoffed daintily. "I won't be coming with you as a priest. To be honest, I was singing here to earn coin to trade my robes for a simple set of leather armour like yours. I'm a good fighter."

"We saw," Alistair said bluntly. "Aela, are you aware of what she is?"

Aela looked up at him and hesitated. "She's… a woman?"

Alistair shook his head, then nodded, then scoffed. "Yes, she is a woman, alright, fine, that's not the point." He looked at Leliana. "She's a bard."

Leliana shifted uneasily suddenly. She looked upset.

"I suppose I made that a little too obvious. I'm out of practice afterall."

Alistair glared. "An Orlesian assassin. What does Loghain think he's playing at?"

The bard jumped. "No, no, I do not work for Loghain, I work for no one! I want to secure it with you!"

"Do you have any proof?" Morrigan quipped. "The bard detail I can live with, but I trust the Chantry like I trust my mother."

Leliana frowned. "I was a bard, it's true. And I still use my teachings, but I went to the Chantry to be away from that life."

"So why are you so quick to return to it?" Aela asked.

Leliana looked around the tavern as if she didn't appreciate all the ears around them, even though the rest of the tavern's patrons stayed away.

"I was sent a vision by the Maker," she admitted. "And I was told to come with you."

Alistair laughed and Leliana frowned at him. "Are you serious?" he asked.

"Aye, I am."

Aela put up a hand to Alistair. She returned to Leliana. "We have no way of knowing if you're lying or spying or cheating us right now. How do I know you won't sing us into sleep and slit our throats in the night?"

"I would never!" Leliana gasped. "Aela, listen to me, I know it's hard to believe, but the Maker spoke to me, and sent me a dream of a woman. She said I needed to join you. She told me things about you, where you came from and –"

Leliana's words were halted when Aela slapped her hand over her mouth. It startled Alistair and he almost cursed. "I come from nothing, you would be smart to remember that."

The bard nodded quickly. Alistair meanwhile was ready to whirl Aela around and demand explanation. But Aela shoved her way to the innkeeper with Leliana's arm in her grip. The innkeeper didn't want to make eye contact at first while Aela hissed at Leliana.

"We'll talk more about this later. Give me your earnings."

Leliana handed her a pouch. There were less than fifty silvers within. She thrust it into the innkeepers hand and in return, received a ratty set of armour that had been looted off a body.

"Trade what we found," Aela ordered Alistair. "I don't want any trace of Ostagar on us when we leave."

Alistiar grumbled but accepted.

Outside, Aela escorted Leliana to the back. She threw the armour into her hands and crossed her arms. She glared. "This 'vision' the Maker sent you, I don't like it. He hasn't really been there for me, if you understand my meaning. Tell me about this woman."

Leliana licked her lips, her back pressed against the back of the tavern. "Her gown looked like it had been made of stardust…" she began. The way she spoke made Aela calm quickly. "… her hair was blonde like the sun and her skin beautiful and bronze, eyes brown like the sweetest chocolate. She told me that you had been torn from your home to face the darkspawn and you needed help. So I want to help."

Aela's eyes twitched. She was hoping the woman in Leliana's dream was the same as the one that had met her in the Joining, but that woman was wearing a cloak and had brown hair and blue eyes. She sighed angrily.

"If you are to join me, there are conditions."

"Anything!"

"Firstly, make no mention of who I am beyond my first name. To others, I am a mere commoner and I would keep it that way. Secondly, no preaching. I don't think I can handle it."

"I understand… you have lost so much."

"Thirdly," Aela piped up emotionally, "no pity. I can't handle that, either."

"You can't keep your grief contained, Aela."

"That is not for you to decide. Get dressed."

Aela left Leliana as much privacy as she could and waited with Alistair, Duckling, and Morrigan out front. When Leliana emerged wearing the armour she had bought, it looked like it would do no good in protecting her. She gripped her Chantry robes in her fist and nodded before slipping back into the tavern. Morrigan looked into the distance.

"I don't like her," she said in a huff. Aela chuckled and Alistair balked at her.

"You see a Qunari slaughterer in a cage and like him, fine. But when a nice lady comes around and saves us from bounty hunter drunkard guards, you're not impressed."

"She thinks the Chantry's sun shines out of her backside and the Maker sends her postcards in her sleep. And people think I'm the crazy one."

Aela didn't say anything. She only accepted Leliana because of the tavern fight, but her knowing her past made her very upset. So long as she kept her mouth shut, though, she would bear it. Prioritize, she told herself.

Leliana returned from the tavern without her gown and with a very slapdash-looking bow in her hand. The bushel of arrows she had looked brittle and crusted. Used. But she glowed with excitement as she joined the four of them. Duckling liked her instantly and licked her fingers when she got close. Aela giggled at the sight of affection.

But she was not convinced in their strength. Morrigan had dark magic and Aela and Leliana were quick on their feet. Alistair was good with a shield and being loud. They still needed something more.

The next thing the party knew, they were walking into Lothering's Chantry. They did not like what they found. Terrified parents and starving children shot looks at them nervously as Aela looked for the Revered Mother. When she found her, she was sitting in a chair, absolutely exhausted. She looked up at Aela as she approached and gave a small smile.

"Ah, I heard you were coming," she said tiredly. "I hear the tavern almost collapsed."

"No, Mother," Leliana laughed. The Mother smiled at her and bowed her head.

"Good to see you're taking care of yourself. I'm glad you are leaving while you have the ambition. Now then, what can I do for you?"

Aela didn't say as she dropped a bag of coin into the Mother's lap. "A donation for the visitors here."

The Mother beamed at her, grateful. But Aela wasn't done.

"I need something, though."

The Mother frowned slightly. "I am afraid I have nothing to offer in return… a blessing maybe, but no food, no water…"

"I just need a key."

The Mother blinked. Aela kept her face neutral.

"A key to open…?"

"There is an executioner's cage on the outskirts of town with a prisoner within. I want to take him on my quest."

Alistair huffed again while Leliana gave him a look that didn't quite show annoyance. Morrigan smiled widely. The Mother was not impressed.

"No, that is too much to ask."

"You aren't using him," Aela replied. The Mother fumed gracefully.

"He is not an object I am simply not using! He is a murderer, a sinner, and he must pay for his crimes."

If there was one thing Eleanor taught Aela, it was patience. She got on one knee.

"Please, Mother," Aela murmured. "I have this great weight on me and I need strength to carry it. We are all outcasts – none of us have a place or a home – and that will apply to all of Ferelden if we can't stop the Blight."

The Mother straightened.

"Hush that word in this hall," the Mother said gently. "It is almost as bad as a curse word. But… are you sure?"

"I have seen him," she said. "And he is coming. Please… what good can a soldier do if he is locked up in a cage?"

There was a moment before the Mother dropped her soldiers and looked to the ceiling as if it had advice to give her. She pulled the key from a chain around her neck and tossed it to her.

"Fine. If you can bring him to his salvation, then do it out of Lothering. Safe journey, Maker preserve you all."

There was no anger in her voice, but Aela gave her another pouch of coin – the last of her money – and left. The rest followed, some impressed, and Alistair biting his tongue. Aela marched to the cage on the outskirts of town and went to the cage. Sten stood, looking over the rolling hills and keeping his hands behind his back. When the Grey Warden appeared, he gave her a stoic stare.

"You return," he said.

"Obviously," Alistair muttered. Leliana hushed him.

"Okay, what if I told you I had the key to your cage and I would let you out if you would join me?" Aela asked with little breath.

"I will not answer, as you do not have the key."

"Yes, but what if? You could be free and fight your way back to honour, and if you help me get to where Alistair and I need to go, then I would find the funds to send you home."

The Qunari thought for a moment. "A bold promise. One you most likely could not keep."

"Just. Answer. Me."

There was a tense silence full of the distant sound of scared talking and window shutters clattering against shacks.

"A life is better than death," Sten finally said. So Aela revealed the key and shoved it into the keyhole. Alistair leapt forward and grabbed her hand.

"No, stop!" he hissed. "This thing could kill us when we open the door."

Aela was sweating and she looked at Alistair desperately. "You can't feel that?" she breathed. "We need to get out now, and he needs to come!"

She wrenched free of Alistair and she popped the lock. She pulled the lock out and Alistair slammed the door shut. Sten looked intrigued. Aela turned to him and was visibly terrified.

"Can you not feel that?!" she asked hysterically.

Alistair almost called her crazy before he felt the cold in his heart, the weakness in his knees. He was the one who wrenched the cage open.

"Get out," he growled as he looked to the trees. Aela felt it too, but so much more powerful. The Chantry bell began to ring, and people began to scream. Aela made a move to run back to the people before Alistair seized her. "Run!"

"No, they need us!"

"I said RUN!"

He hauled Aela forward and forced her to run. Sten kept up and Leliana followed while Morrigan stayed ahead with her expert footwork. And they heard Lothering fall even as they finally slowed, exhausted, collapsing onto the ground under bushes and roots. Aela meanwhile walked onward to the sound of a river and fell next to it. They were north now, already past the road to Redcliffe and on their way to the Frostback Mountains.

But Aela was more worried about herself. She was on her knees, her fists on the gravel next to the rushing water. Sobs tore out of her body, emotions rushing over her.

"Why?" she spat through gritted teeth. Her family's faces flowed into her head like a tidal wave. Orianna holding onto little Oren, eyes staring at nothing, neck slashed open. Bryce trying to get up from the floor like a dying animal, his stomach split. Her mother's face as she realized this was a final goodbye to her child. Aela grabbed onto her white hair and wrenched on it. The pain made her feel better, so she pulled harder. She screamed into her fist and bit her knuckle until it bled. She cried so hard she made no sound and curled up into a ball. She wrapped her arms around herself.

Singing filled the air slowly, distracting her barely with a soft, echoing lullaby. She didn't understand the language, but her body tingled and her back relaxed. She melted into the river bank as Leliana's voice from the trees infected her, warmed her. The bard peered from the trees cautiously, singing at her. Aela wanted to fight it, knew it would be smart to not trust her, but she found herself letting her eyes fall heavy and close.

When she slept, the song never stopped. She sat in the Fade and listened, a strange false peace surrounding her like a blanket that was not quite warm enough, armour that wasn't quite thick enough, or an army that wasn't quite together.

It took four sets of hands to pry open the doors to the throne room. Alistair, Oghren, Sten, and Teagan hauled open one of the doors and everybody helped everyone into the room. Aela wiped her bloody nose again and ignored the migraine bashing her head. But eerily enough, the huge room was quiet, save for the echoes outside.

The week before, Alistair had been sworn into rule in that very room in a rushed, informal ceremony, surrounded by the Grey Warden party, nobles, and the king's guard. Documents were signed, blessings were given, and oaths were sworn here. Anora gracefully, yet disdainfully, gave him her blessing and left Denerim to live in Amaranthine. The rightful king of Ferelden made a half-rate speech to nervous soldiers and hungry people, and his first order to his guards was to stay outside and fight. So the castle was empty and vulnerable.

But stone can be rebuilt and thrones can be resmithed, and people cannot. They slowed their pace and tried to find their way in the dark. The fires outside shone through the stained glass windows upon the worn throne. Alistair stopped and the party instantly got to work preparing themselves.

"We must get to Fort Drakon!" Riordan said. "But there are a lot of darkspawn ahead. Teagan, Eamon, you will escort me there ahead of time while Aela and the others fight through the horde with the treaty holders. I need the archdemon to focus on you, not me."

"Of course," Alistair said. Teagan and Eamon looked at each other and looked to Riordan. Riordan nodded and shook Alistair's hand.

"Let's hope this is goodbye," Riordan said with a painful smile, "as horrible as that sounds."

"No, I hope you get the glory," Alistair replied. "You are making an ultimate sacrifice."

"Just keep my country safe," Riordan said with a wink. He turned to Aela. He shook her hand as well, but pulled her in for a hug.

"If this doesn't work," Riordan whispered quickly, "it has to be you."

"I know," she agreed. "I know."

"It can't be him."

"I would never let him do that."

"Do it for your family."

"I'd do it for the world."

Riordan pulled back and bowed. "It's been an honour. Andraste and Maker bless you."

He turned away and walked from the party while Aela repeated his words in her head. Maker and Andraste, Andraste and Maker. Strange things had happened since her Joining, strange and elusive and impossible things. Things that made the name of the Maker and his burning wife seem realer to her. So when anyone told her they should bless her, she felt a small heart-flutter. She knew if she needed divine intervention, it would be tonight.

Wynne drank more lyrium. Oghren bounced from foot to foot, making himself angry. Sten cleaned his sword without expression. Leliana rearranged the arrows in her bushel, counting the different magical arrows Morrigan and Wynne had both made while uttering a prayer to the Maker. Zevran soaked both his daggers in poison and whipped them around in his grip to dry them. Alistair tightened Duncan's shield around his forearm and repositioned Duncan's sword in his hip. Duckling simply growled at the windows as if the archdemon was outside.

Aela did nothing special to prepare herself. She sat on the steps to the throne and rested the Cousland sword in her lap. Biter glinted in the orange light. Around the pommel were the laces from her last gown tied around it, a constant reminder of being torn from her family. She knew they had been avenged and Howe's body lie somewhere unbecoming, but tonight was going to make them proud. Aela ran her fingers down the laces and sent them a thought.

Suddenly, Alistair was in front of her on one knee. He grabbed her hand from the sword and held it in his, the other cupping her cheek. Aela was startled at first, but calmed.

"We only have a minute," he said urgently, "But Aela… Aela Cousland of Highever… you were born with noble blood and noble heart. I don't know who or what brought us together… but I'm so terrified it's going to tear us apart."

"Hush, my love," Aela whispered. "Nothing could tear us apart."

"In a moment, we are going out there and we may not come back," he choked. "I want to do something before that happens."

"We don't have time, the archdemon –" Aela began, but Alistair kissed her quickly to silence her. His mouth was still on hers when he spoke against her lips.

"Marry me, Aela," he whispered. Aela froze. Her stomach lurched and she gripped onto him. "I know we haven't known each other long, but we have been through the deepest hell and highest heaven and I don't want one of us to leave the field without the other without at least this."

Aela had no time to think. "Leliana!" she called.

The bard ran over. Aela had no time to explain, she simply said, "Marry us, my friend."

At first, Leliana did not understand. But then she bit her lip and tried to scramble for words. "I-I don't know… I have wed people in the past, but I don't think I can –"

"Please," Alistair begged.

"I need rope, a ring, a witness…"

Aela unwrapped the laces from her sword and gave them to Leliana. "We don't need a ring, and we have each other to witness. Do it."

Leliana took the laces and the rest of the party gathered. "I'll skip the prayers and whatnot, then. Maker and Andraste, wedded Holy pair of the sky, earth, and flame, I ask your blessing for this union under the witness of our beloved friends in arms."

Wynne put her hand to her heart in surprise once she realized what was happening, and even Sten wrinkled his brow. Leliana tied Alistair's wrist quickly.

"Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, do you swear unto the Maker to love, cherish, and remain faithful to your bride?"

"I do," Alistair said. Leliana tied Aela's wrist.

"Aela Cousland, Teryna of Highever and Amaranthine, do you swear unto Andraste to love, cherish, and remain faithful to your groom?"

"Without question."

Leliana hastily wrapped the rest of the cord around their hands, tying them together, and she placed her hands over the pair.

"In the name of the Maker and Andraste, you are wed on this day. Normally, we would require a ring to symbolize union…"

"Give me your dagger," Alistair said to Aela. Aela had no time to ask questions. He grabbed Aela's free hand with his and made her rest the blade on his cheek. Aela hesitated. Alistair dragged the blade across his cheek enough to make him bleed, and when she pulled back, he had a matching cut to mimic her scar.

They kissed quickly to finalize it, had enough time to look at each other, and then Leliana tore the laces from their wrists. Aela returned them to her pommel and the party's happiness was put to the side. Aela and Alistair led the way to the other doors and pressed themselves against it.

"I love you, Aela Theirin," Alistair whispered to her.

"More than the world."

"One…" Alistair and the rest of the party readied themselves.

"Two…" Aela did not take her eyes from Alistair's.

"Three!"

Aela and Alistair, wedded King and Queen of Ferelden, wrenched open the doors and rushed into hell.