Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, etc, or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

Rating: M

Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Origins DL content, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling. May also contain spoilers for Final Fantasy XII, Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII-2, Dungeons and Dragons, and Harry Potter.

Chapter Two: The Conversation

Elilia poured the coffee, and they both sat in silence and watched it cool. Finally he raised his cup to his lips and ventured a sip. The drink kicked him in the adenoids on the way down his throat. He replaced the cup in its saucer.

"Cailan is dead," he said, without preamble. "He died at Ostagar, along with the better part of our armed forces, fighting the darkspawn. They died because I left them there. I was on the flanking charge. I never called it. I ordered a retreat instead."

She blinked. "I presume you had a good reason."

"I thought I did. I was afraid, you see. Cailan pushed to let Orlesian troops into the country to help us fight the darkspawn. They were supposed to come in aid to the Grey Wardens of Orlais. Cailan seemed to think they would quietly leave when the darkspawn were dealt with, but I had my own thoughts on that score. I tried to make Cailan understand what that would mean to the nation, but he insisted our quarrels with Orlais were in the past. All I could see was the past coming back around to bite us in the ass."

"So you left him," Elilia said.

He shook his head. "That's not why I called the retreat. I would have fought Cailan tooth and nail for years, if need be, to keep him from throwing Ferelden to the wolves. I called the retreat because when the signal finally came, it was late enough that I felt certain there'd been some trickery on the part of the Grey Wardens, who were to light it. Rather than send my men into a trap, I called a retreat to save what I could. I abandoned my king and my men because I mistrusted the Wardens. I regret the men who lost their lives, but I can't bring myself to regret the loss of Cailan very much. He was a fool, and he met a fool's end. The bastard was plotting to set Anora aside and marry Celene, whether your father had anything to do with putting the idea into his head or not. I didn't know it when I left him, but when I found out I found I was rather glad things worked out the way they did."

"So am I," Elilia said. "He would have destroyed Ferelden."

"The rest of the nobility didn't agree. I tried to pull them together against the threat I perceived from Orlais, but a good number of them rebelled against me. There was civil war."

"Idiots," Elilia said.

"Some of them, no doubt about it. Eager to make a grasp for the throne with Cailan gone. Others believed me a traitor; that I willfully left Cailan to die because I disagreed with his politics."

"I suppose I can see that," she said. "Still, talk about a bad time to be at odds. Did Orlais invade?"

He shook his head. "She hasn't, to date. As it turned out, the darkspawn were a greater threat than I imagined. It was a true Blight. Orlais didn't invade, but the darkspawn did. Most of the south was overrun. West Hills. South Reach. We were so busy fighting each other there was no one to fight the darkspawn except the two surviving Grey Wardens, who spent most of the past year gathering what allies against the darkspawn they could find. The dwarves of Orzammar, the Dalish elves, the Circle of Magi. They did all this even though I set an assassin after them, one of the Antivan Crows. Then when they showed up in Denerim, the damned assassin was with them - one of their companions! They thwarted me at every turn. I say 'they' but it was really just the dwarf. Aeducan."

"What was a prince of Orzammar doing in the Grey Wardens?" Elilia asked.

He shrugged. "I never asked. King Endrin died sometime thereabouts of Ostagar, and there was a bit of intrigue surrounding the succession. Some advisor of his got the nod, a fellow named Harrowmont. I never heard what happened to the three sons, so how one of them ended up with the Wardens is beyond my ken."

"You don't take much interest in the intrigues of foreign courts, do you?" Elilia said.

He shook his head. "I had enough trouble keeping up with the intrigues of the Ferelden court. Orzammar's king troubles were of interest in so far as they affected dwarven trade, but beyond that they were free to go to hell in their own unique way, for all I cared."

Elilia got up and poured herself a second cup of coffee. She raised the pot in offer. "More?"

"Thank you, I'm good," Loghain said, with a hand over his cup.

She sat back down and took a sip. "So you called a retreat and the nobility didn't like it. I fail to see where the horror comes in. You had me thinking you were going to confess to the murder of Andraste."

"I'm not finished. Someone sent an amateur assassin after Arl Eamon. The assassin claimed it was me."

She put down her cup and it clattered in the saucer. "Well, did you?"

He shook his head. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember? I'd think a thing like that wouldn't slip your mind," she said.

"It's strange. Much of the past year was…strange. Muzzy. Like I was looking through cheesecloth. I can't really explain it. Perhaps I was sick. If I did do it, I could make a claim to madness, for sending a rank amateur on so delicate a mission was nearly bound to fail, and it did. Eamon was saved, and the assassin caught."

"I notice you don't seem particularly upset that someone tried to kill the man, just perhaps that they tried to pin it on you," she said.

"I might well have thought to kill Eamon, but I would hope to the Maker I'd have gone about it more intelligently. I always thought the man, with his Orlesian leanings, was dangerous, and I know now that he was one of the nobles urging Cailan to set Anora aside, though the slick bastard never did come out and mention anything about Celene, at least not in the letters I found. My only regret about the plot, whoever set it up, is that it failed."

"Is there anyone who might have set up the assassination in your name? Perhaps to hurt your cause?" she asked.

"Howe. Not to hurt my cause, no, I don't believe, but to aid it…with a little added insurance thrown in on the side. He had one of the templars that hunted the assassin - a runaway mage - in his dungeon. Not just any templar, but the brother of Bann Alfstanna. He was pretty far gone in lyrium withdrawal, but he claimed that men bearing my shield took the maleficar from them. Howe was the only man, aside from me, who had the power to order my men to do anything."

"Why keep the templar, though? He had to know if someone found him, it would go badly for you," Elilia said.

"Insurance, like I said. Of course the templar couldn't be released to tell his story, but the only reason I can think of to keep such a man alive is to ensure that if things went badly, there'd be someone reliable there to pin all the blame on me and not Howe. But as I said, I don't even know whether I ordered my men to capture him or not, so it's all speculation."

"It was Howe," Elilia said, decisively. "That snaky bastard. I can't imagine why you would ever think to put any trust in him."

"I didn't put much trust in him. Less, I would imagine, than your father. Than you."

"A fair point. Until he murdered us, I had no idea what a rat bastard he really was. I just always thought him a bit disingenuous. And smarmy," Elilia said. "He was so very condescending towards me for my training as a warrior. And he was always trying to set me up with his son, that lush Thomas. He tried that again the very day he sent his men against us. I don't know why. To make it seem that all was as normal?"

"I should think it likely. He must have been planning his attack for days at the least."

Her mouth turned down in a pout. "I wonder if he'd have let my parents live if I'd accepted."

"Doubtful. He wanted the teyrnir, not a wife for his drunken son."

"I hope you're right. I don't like to think I might have caused their deaths by refusing every suitor."

"Your parents had the authority to make you accept Thomas Howe's marriage suit. The fact that they did not, nor the suit of any other noble jackanapes that came calling after you, suggests to me they wanted you to be happy, not politically apposite. Don't hold to guilt you don't own, girl."

She sipped her coffee in silence for a moment. Then she put down her cup and said, "So you made a tough decision that resulted in unfortunate circumstances, and you may or may not have ordered an assassination. Anything else?"

"Unfortunately," he said. He took a sip of his own coffee. "I signed a contract with a group of Tevinter slavers. I sold the elves of Denerim's alienage into slavery. Howe's idea, but I signed the contract. Their lives are on my head."

She blinked several times, rapidly. "Why would you do something like that?"

He sighed. "There was much unrest in the alienage. A group of elves broke into the Arl of Denerim's estate and killed a few guards and Lord Vaughan. No great loss, as far as I'm concerned, but Howe came back from Ostagar and took over the arling, and he put the heel hard to the alienage in retribution. There were riots, general slaughter…and then the whole place came down with plague. There seemed no clear solution to what was wrong in the alienage, and it seemed all the elves would die. The Tevinters had magic, the means to cure the sickness. I felt it was the lesser evil to let them take what they needed from the community in exchange for healing."

"That's horrible," Elilia said, "…but I think I understand."

He shook his head again. "There were other solutions. Somehow or other I just never managed to think of any of them."

"What could you do? Thanks to the Chantry's grip on the mages, there was little chance you could get them healing on your own."

"To clean the place up would have been a help," Loghain said. "Sickness breeds in filth, and Howe left corpses lay to rot for days. 'To discourage further unrest,' he said. Like his foot soldiers weren't discouragement enough."

"It sounds like you didn't have the coin for a massive clean-up effort," Elilia said.

"I didn't. Even so, I should have done something. Something other than sign over Fereldan lives for a hundred sovereigns a head."

She whistled. "I can't imagine that a lot of Ferelden noblemen wouldn't have signed over elven lives for a lot less than that."

"Freedom is worth more. I built my life around that very tenet. I can't say why I did this…horrible thing, not for certain, but I know that I sold out my most basic ideals to do it. You said nothing, but I sensed that you agreed with Oghren, that I should take the nomad's coin for the cluckatrice meat. If I were being as practical as is my usual wont, I would have done. But I have a lot to atone for, so I must take any small opportunity to do a kindness. I can't make up for what I did, but I can proceed in a better fashion."

She smiled, slightly. "Chin up and plod on, eh?"

He nodded. "Just so."

"Are you very certain that you're not just beating yourself up over it all?" she asked. "Because you know that serves no purpose."

"It does not, but anyone who would associate with me deserves to know the truth."

She stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed him on the cheek. She sat back down, her face ablush. Loghain, for his part, was fairly stunned. "I hope to the Maker I would never find myself in a position where selling people into slavery seemed like the best choice," she said, "but I think perhaps it was, given the situation. Having experienced death firsthand, I can honestly say I would rather be a slave than dead, even knowing that something might come after. There's always the hope, at least, of escape. I don't know how long it was between the time I died and the time I was reborn here, but there's…nothing. Nothing at all, from that time. Just blackness. I greatly fear that for most people, that's what death is. Just a blank."

"I was unconscious when I first…'arrived' here," Loghain said. "Are you so certain that the transition wasn't instant, and that the blackness you felt was just unconsciousness and nothing more? I find it hard to believe that we'd be here if all ceased after death. That we exist seems to verify the existence of our souls; something there must be after death for all the other souls who aren't brought back in this fashion."

"I hope you're right," she said, but the doubt in her voice was evident.

He sat back in his chair and placed both hands flat upon the table. "Well, I said my piece, and a little bit more. There's really nothing more to say."

She stood up. "I'll be right back," she said, and disappeared into another room. She returned in a few moments with a large jar in her hands. She pulled out the cork and set it down in front of him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's a salve. Sun-salve, they call it. Put it on your skin, it keeps you from burning and heals what's burnt already. You're pretty red. Sticking a Fereldan in the sun is like dropping a chunk of ice into a pot of boiling fat. Dangerous."

"I take it then you don't have anything more to say about what I told you, either," he said.

Her eyes went a trifle wild. "Dwelling on it serves us nothing. It's time to move forward."

"You're a quick study," he said, and dabbed a bit of the sun-salve onto the end of his nose. Elilia scooped up a dollop on her fingers and rubbed it onto his back and shoulders. She had big hands, for a woman, and strong. He felt himself relax into her touch, which served to tense him up more tightly than he was in the first place. This was dangerous territory. It was best to tread as if on eggshells.

"You knotted up faster than my thread when mother made me embroider," Elilia said, with a laugh in her voice. "Don't like to be touched, eh?"

"Somehow I can't picture you engaged in embroidery," Loghain said, in a cautious change of subject.

"I was never much good at it, but mother did her best to turn me into a proper young lady of court. I think she gave up somewhere around the time I got this tattoo on my face. I suppose Anora was excellent at it."

"She did it, when there was nothing better to do," Loghain said. "Would it surprise you very much to know that I did it, too?"

"You're shitting me," Elilia said.

"I shit you not," he said. "My wife turned me onto it. She said it would be calming. I can't say as I ever found it so, but I tried."

"Talk about people you can't picture embroidering."

"Celia tried many ways of civilizing me. None of them took."

"Did she ever give up on you?" Elilia asked.

"I can't say as she did," he said. "But then, I never got myself a tattoo on my face."

"You should, it'd look great," she said. She bounced around to the other side of the table and put her empty coffee cup in the sink. "Listen, I'm hungry. How about we head to the Sandsea for lunch? My treat."

Loghain shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I've eaten two meals already this morning. No, I think my time is best served by finding a clothier. I stand in desperate need of a shirt."

"You look pretty good without one," she said, clearly flirtatious. Loghain was almost as stunned as when she kissed him.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. I'd…best be going, then." He stood up and whistled to Odd. "I'll make my own arrangements for housing tonight."

"You don't have to do that," she said. "My door is open."

"I know it is. That's what worries me."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll see you around, Miss Cousland."

"Well I like that. The first Fereldan I've seen in a year and I get brushed off like a poor relation," Elilia said.

"I'm not giving you the brush," Loghain said. "I know we'll see each other again, I simply don't know when."

"Well, let's make a plan. You've joined the clan, right? I saw the primer poking out of your pocket. Meet me at the clan hall in three hours. It'll be cooler then, we can go out hunting. Then we'll come in and I'll treat to supper."

"Do you really hunt with a greatsword?" Loghain asked.

"Hey, you saw those werewolves. There's some serious game around here."

"Well, do what you will, but I should think a good longbow would be of more use to you."

"I'm not much of an archer," she said. "I suppose you're an expert marksman."

"I wouldn't say that, but the bow was my primary weapon until River Dane."

"What made you change to the sword?"

"I became a general. I had to be at the front of the lines. Archers stand behind them."

"Maybe you could teach me to shoot someday," Elilia said.

"If you'd care to learn, that could be arranged," Loghain said. "I'll see you at the clan hall, serrah."

Loghain left Lowtown and explored the streets of Rabanastre until he found a men's clothing store. He purchased a couple of shirts and a pair of trousers, enough he felt to get him by for the next few days, and the clothier was able to direct him to a cobbler where his new boots were fitted to his feet. Thus attired, he proceeded into the estersand and hunted, despite the heat that used him up quickly. He didn't yet have a map so he didn't venture too far into the twisting maze of arroyos beyond the small trader's outpost. He nodded to a bangaa spearman who patrolled the area and tried to keep the caravan routes clear. After he scouted the region as far as he dared he returned to the city and got a drink of water. From then on he restricted himself to the first open area of the desert, before the outpost.

There was plenty of game. Every wolf he killed was replaced within a matter of minutes. He even saw one appear, coalesced out of the very substance of the air, it seemed. He wondered if it looked much the same when he was brought to this world.

He brought the pelts he took to a furrier in the Muthru Bazaar. They weren't worth much individually, but all together they put quite a few coins into his pocket. He purchased a good hunting knife at the bazaar and then took his remaining coin to Amal's Weaponry, where he purchased a sturdy iron sword that was much like the one he carried in Ferelden. It came with a leather shoulder scabbard. He strapped it on and finally felt dressed.

He returned Tomaj's knife to him at the Sandsea, with his thanks for the loan. While he was there he looked for Elilia, but she was nowhere to be seen. Probably she was back home already, in the cool of Lowtown, or otherwise at the clan hall. He knew he would have to tread carefully around her. Even though her flirtation was doubtless totally innocent, it was still dangerous. He was too attracted to her, and a friendly face in these strange surroundings was a strong temptation. It was a long time since he last felt much of anything towards a woman.

It was too early to meet her at the clan hall, but he headed in that direction anyway. It would be cooler there, at the very least. He could be one of the multitudes that lounged on the stairs. Even with the sun-salve, he felt baked. He needed a moment out of the sun to rest.

The bangaa doorman nodded to him as he entered. The clan hall looked very much the same as it had that morning, with many of the same people planted on the stairs or against the walls. Elilia was there. She sat on the stairs and talked to the blond-haired dwarf who'd known where she was hunting. She glanced up and caught sight of Loghain. She gestured him to come over. He did so, not without misgivings.

"Did you bring your egg?" she asked.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out the wolf pelt in which the rainbow-hued axebeak egg was wrapped. He was pleased to see the egg remained unbroken. Elilia reached out for it and he allowed her to take it. She passed it to the dwarf.

"What do you think, Varric?" she asked.

"I think I can get a nice price for this. I could get you maybe six hundred gil right here in town, but if I sell it in Archades I bet I could get you a thousand," Varric said. "The rich folks in Archades are even richer than the rich folks here in Rabanastre, with more money to spend on trivialities like axebeak eggs. Then, too, they don't get their hands on them as often."

"How far away is Archades?" Loghain asked.

"Oh, miles and miles. It doesn't matter, because I've been there, so I can use the gate crystal to get there now," Varric said. "All I require is two teleport stones and a twenty gil finder's fee. Two hundred and twenty gil, if I have to supply my own teleport stones. Actually, if you don't have any teleport stones it would be better for you most likely if I sold your egg right here in Rabanastre for the lesser price."

Loghain rummaged in his satchel until he found one of the small orange stones that were part of the bounty on the rogue tomato and Odd. "That's these things, correct?"

"That's right. If you'd care to hang around here where I can easily find you, it shouldn't take me more than an hour, tops."

Loghain fished out his second teleport stone and handed them both over. "You understand that if you rook me, I will track you down and kill you, correct? Nothing personal, mind; just letting you know where we stand."

"The straightforward type. I get you," Varric said. "I will return, never fear. Of all the things I don't need, a giant, angry hume is a big one."

Varric left the clan hall. Elilia patted the stair next to her. "Come, sit with me. I think there's still some things we need to talk about."

He sat down, warily. "All right, I suppose that's fair enough to say. What do you want to know?"

"How did you leave things? I know that the king is dead and there was a Blight and civil war, but are things under control now?"

"More or less. Anora rules as queen, the nobles have come together - again, more or less - and the Blight…well, that's supposed to be over now. Whether it truly is or is not is a question of some moment to me."

"So the Archdemon was slain. Did you see it?" she asked, and her eyes glittered with excitement.

"I saw it. I slew it."

"I thought only the Grey Wardens could do that," she said.

"I was a Grey Warden. It was my punishment for the things I did."

She was silent for a long moment. "If you were a Grey Warden, and you killed the Archdemon, how did you end up here? If it's not too painful to talk about, that is."

"Killing the Archdemon is a fatal business," Loghain said. "Its soul enters the body of the nearest corrupted individual. If that individual is a darkspawn, the Archdemon is reborn to live again. When that individual is a Grey Warden, however, both are destroyed. At least, that's what was supposed to happen. It didn't, not exactly, not if I'm here now. But if it interrupted the Archdemon's rebirth then I suppose it was worth it all the same."

"It must have," Elilia said. "You did die. That you live again is immaterial. You're not in the same world any longer. The Archdemon isn't, either, whether it lives or not."

"I hope you're right."

She studied the hands that lay folded in her lap for a moment. "I can't believe you were sentenced to death," she said at last.

"I wasn't. I was sentenced to redemption. That's the way I look at it."

"Slay the Archdemon, regain your honor, something like that?" she said.

"Exactly."

"Did you know it would kill you when they sentenced you to it? The Grey Wardens like their secrets."

"I didn't know, and neither did Aeducan. Can't say either of us was displeased to learn of it, though. He had a way to live and I had a way to die useful, which is all I've ever asked out of life," Loghain said.

"Seems to me a man could afford to ask a little bit more out of life than that," she said.

"What more did I need? Nothing."

"You never once, in all your years, wanted for anything more than what you had?"

"I did. But I learned. Some things will always be out of reach. It's worthless to pine for them."

"You were Teyrn of Gwaren. Just what was out of your reach?" she asked.

"Some things are always out of reach," he said again, and would say no more.

They sat in silence for a time, until Elilia found another question to ask. "How's Anora? I suppose she's happy enough, being queen."

"She was fine the last I knew."

"No offense intended, but she always made me a bit nervous. She was always so put-together," Elilia said.

"She always made me a bit nervous, too, for different reasons."

Elilia seemed to hesitate on the verge of saying something. Loghain guessed that whatever she hesitated to say was the one thing she truly wanted to know. Finally she had out with it.

"Is Fergus still alive?" she asked, with an air of having the worst over with.

"His scouting party went missing before the battle at Ostagar," Loghain said.

"So. The Couslands are extinct," she said.

"No they're not," he said. "You're still alive."

"You know what I meant," she said. She rested her chin on the heel of her hand. "The Couslands are extinct, the Theirins are extinct, the Mac Tirs are extinct, the Howes are probably in disgrace…Ferelden is running short of nobility these days."

"Does the thought bother you?" he asked.

"Of course it does. Who's running things now?"

"The same cast of idiots that always did run things. They've probably just moved a few of them up a notch or two."

"I suppose things will look pretty much the same as ever once things settle down," Elilia said. "Still, it's hard to imagine. I wonder what King Maric would have made of this mess?"

"If he were alive, none of it would have happened," Loghain said.

"Do you really think he could have changed things?" she asked.

"I know he could have. Elilia, this third Mist-born person; Tomaj at the Sandsea told me his name was Mark, but he didn't sound too certain of it. Is it him? Is it Maric? The time frame matches up."

"I don't know," Elilia said. "I've kept my nose out of Dalmascan politics. Apart from the fact that he's a nobleman here in the city, I don't know anything about him, including his name. Someone would know. Ask Montblanc."

"I'm not so certain I truly want to know. How could I ever look him in the eye after what I've done?"

"Scared?" she asked, not without a hint of a tease in her voice.

"Perhaps I am," he said. He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. "Sitting around worrying isn't the answer, is it?"

He climbed the stairs to where Montblanc stood, on the balcony railing as he did that morning. Loghain would have been worried for the little creature, but for the small pair of golden, batlike wings that stuck out through the back of the moogle's doublet. They didn't look like they were much use, but perhaps they were enough to break a fall. Certainly Montblanc himself didn't seem worried.

"Excuse me, Ser," Loghain said. "I was wondering if perhaps you could tell me the name of the other Mist-born fellow here in the city."

"You mean Lord Maric, kupo?" Montblanc said.

"It is Maric. I knew. I hoped otherwise, when I heard his name, but I knew. He's from Ferelden, isn't he?" Loghain said.

"He was King, or so he says."

"He was."

"You knew him, then? Personally, kupo?"

"He was my best friend."

"Well, that's wonderful news! I believe he is not in the city at this time, kupo, but a message could be left in his apartments for him. I am sure he would be happy to see you again," Montblanc said.

"Not when he hears what I have to tell him. A message won't be necessary: he'll find me. The less I want to see him, the sooner it will happen. As sure as the spring rains."

"It only rains in the winter around here, kupo," Montblanc said.

"Oh? Even so."

"Well, if you change your mind about leaving that message, kupo, let me know," Montblanc said. "I can send word to Lord Maric's seneschal at any time."

"Thank you. I may take you up on that if time should prove me wrong."

Loghain went back to the stairs and sat down next to Elilia again. "It is him. I can hardly believe it, but it has the flavor of destiny to it. Three people taken from the realm of death and given rebirth in the same strange world, and all three of them from the same nation? Someone has something in mind. I don't know that I care to find out what."

"So, King Maric is alive," Elilia said. "I find that quite good news. He was always uncommonly jolly, for a king."

"Jolly? Yes, I suppose. When he wasn't stuck in a mood."

"Says the man in the blackest mood for the longest time," Elilia said.

"I am not moody," Loghain said. "I am perpetually angry. There's a difference."

"What difference exactly?" she asked.

"The perpetually angry man is driven to do something about that which makes him angry. The moody man is driven to do nothing but sit and mope."

She shrugged. "Well, you knew King Maric far better than I, but I retain fond memories of him all the same. I wonder if he would remember me. He laughed so when I got my tattoo."

"Maric would find that funny. I've been meaning to ask; did you have it redone or did it make the crossing with you? I didn't notice whether my ink passed through the eye of death or not."

"You mean that circle on your arm with the funny looking writing? It's there. Mine crossed over, too. Proof that the gods have a sense of humor, I suppose. What does yours mean? Tattoos should have a meaning, particularly when there's lettering involved. Mine just means I didn't want my parents to accept Vaughan Kendalls' marriage suit," she said.

"Supposedly it's Dalish for 'Night Elves watch the line.' The Night Elves were my first company. You probably wouldn't know about them," Loghain said. "They didn't receive too many accolades, though they deserved them."

"Were they really elves?"

"All but for me." He grunted a laugh at that.

"You got any other ink hidden away where I can't see it?" she asked.

"No, that's the only tattoo I ever saw fit to disfigure myself with. My mother made it clear to me long ago that she didn't approve of tattoos, at least on me."

"It's hard to picture you with a mother. As a child, that is. I just see a short, surly you when I try to imagine it," she said.

"You're probably not too far off the mark. Except for the fact that my mother always saw to it my hair was well trimmed, I don't think I've changed overmuch since my childhood. Not that I can well remember my childhood. The intervening years have drawn a shroud over those days I can barely see through. I don't think I was a surly child, precisely, but I was an inordinately serious one. An old woman in Oswin used to call me 'Grim,' as though that were my name. 'Here, you, Grim - fetch me my walking stick, lad.' Hmph. Haven't thought about her in eons."

"You grew up in Oswin?" Elilia asked.

"Outside of it, on a small horse farm."

"I bet you had to do a lot of chores," she said.

"You bet right."

"I never had chores, growing up," she said.

"You are a child of privilege," Loghain said. "Teyrn's daughters don't do chores. They probably ought."

"Did Anora have chores?"

"Not exactly, but she was never idle. By which I mean she was often underfoot. She always preferred to turn her little hand to grownup pursuits than children's games. I started teaching her to hunt when she was five."

"I can't picture Anora hunting, let alone at five. I was seventeen before my father could be coerced into taking me hunting."

"I can't picture you not hunting. Was Bryce not a hunter himself, or did he harbor some strange delusion that girls ought not to hunt?"

"Father didn't hunt often, it's true, but I think he would have taken me out a few times more than that if I were a boy," Elilia said. "How old were you when your father taught you to hunt?"

"I was five or perhaps six when the lessons started. But it wasn't my father taught me to hunt, 'twas my mother. Father was a good hunter, when hunting had to be done, but mother was born and bred for it."

"She sounds unconventional," Elilia said, with a laugh. "I think I would have liked her, even though she'd probably sniff at my tattoo."

"I said mother was against tattoos on me, not on anybody else. I would venture to guess she'd have liked your ink, even though it doesn't have much meaning."

"What was her name?"

"Nerissia."

"That's an unusual name. Sounds almost elven."

He laughed again, harder this time. "What the hell? There's nothing it can hurt in this world. It is elven. My mother was a Dalish."

She stared at him, bug-eyed. "You're…you're…you're half-elven?" she said.

"I am."

She turned her face forward and put her chin in the heel of her hand. She was still pop-eyed. She made as if to say something several times, but remained silent. Before she could come to whatever conclusion rumbled in her mind, Varric returned to the clan hall, with a heavy pouch of coins in his hand.

"Your profits, Sir," he said, and handed over the pouch. "Come into any more treasures like that, I'll be more than happy to make the sale for you. Speaking of treasures; Elilia, my precious, would you care to join me this week's end for a little concerted rare game hunt? I've got a line on several nice beasties lurking around the Ozmone Plain. Could be some decent rewards out of it."

"What? Oh. Right. Rare game. Sure, I'm up for it. Week's end, you say? Day after tomorrow, then?" she said.

"How about you, Big Man?" Varric asked Loghain. "Another sword arm and a big damned dog could always come in handy."

"I don't know that I'd be welcome. The lady hasn't ventured a word since I told her the truth of my antecedents," Loghain said.

"It's just a shock, is all. Like finding out that Dane was a Qunari," Elilia said.

"Why? If Dane were a Qunari, he wouldn't be a Fereldan. I can assure you, despite the fact I'm half elven, I am one hundred percent Fereldan," Loghain said.

Varric looked at Loghain. "You're half-elven? But I thought you died. Aren't half-elves as immortal as full elves?"

"Elves aren't immortal where we come from, Varric," Elilia said. "Not any longer, at least."

"For all intents and purposes, I'm completely human," Loghain said. "My mother ensured it. She taught me nothing of my Dalish ancestry, except perhaps for woodcraft, and hid herself away on our little farm so the people of the town wouldn't know I had an elven mother. Your own cousin, Arl Bryland, is half-blood. You never seemed to have a problem with him."

"It's like I told you, it's just a shock, that's all," Elilia said. "Of course I don't have a problem with it. You're a half-blood. Big deal. Lots of people are half-blooded." She seemed almost to convince herself, but clear doubts remained.

"Do you see, Varric, why I kept it a secret? It's tearing her up inside, the simple fact that half my lineage has pointy ears," Loghain said.

"I take it the races stick to themselves pretty much where you come from," Varric said.

"Not entirely. Elves are very popular as prostitutes and mistresses. But, you see, I was a lord. Elves are not lords. Elves are servants, at best. That's the world Elilia grew up in."

She bridled at that. "How dare you imply that I'm prejudiced? I have nothing against elves. As far as I'm concerned, they're every bit as good as humans, maybe even better. Just because I take some surprise at the idea that Loghain Mac Tir, of all people, could be half-blooded, doesn't mean I have a problem with the fact." Her face was florid, but she seemed to have her feet back under her where they belonged.

"Well, now that that's settled, what about it, Big Man?" Varric asked. "Some rare game in your primer will help boost that clan rank no problem."

"If it's all right with Elilia," Loghain said.

"Why wouldn't it be all right with Elilia?" Elilia said. "Come along."

"How far away is this Ozmone Plain?" Loghain asked. "Will I need special equipment?"

"Might want a set of leathers at the least," Varric said. "And a canteen. We have to cross the whole of the Giza Plains to get there, but Ozmone itself isn't desert. Still, fresh water sources are few and far between so it's best to bring your own. It's not that far, just a day's trip there and back, with time for hunting in between, so you don't have to worry about a tent or anything like that."

"You'll want some magic, though," Elilia said. "That or a bow. There's great flying monsters on the Ozmone Plain that are quick on the attack but stay within melee range for only a matter of a moment before they pull back out of reach. You need magic or a ranged weapon to take them down, unless you get very lucky."

"I want a bow anyway, but I'll be hard-pressed to get enough coin and license points to bear one in a single day," Loghain said.

"We can work on that," Elilia said. "You're still going out hunting with me tonight, aren't you?"

"If you still want to," he said.

"Of course I still want to. But you should think about learning some magic, even if you do get a bow. Some monsters are hard to defeat without it. Amorphs, for instance," Elilia said.

"What's an amorph?" Loghain asked.

"They're hard to describe. Unfortunately, they're not at all uncommon, so you'll be seeing one sooner rather than later. I'll help you track down some big ticket bounties tomorrow, if you'll let me. I'd wager we can bring in enough coin for a bow and some basic magic spells, plus some type of light armor. And there's plenty of game hereabouts to earn enough license points for all of it." She seemed to grow excited. "There's plenty of things you should think about laying in a supply of, like healing potions and eye drops, to cure the flash-blindness some monsters inflict on you. Then, too, you'll need some empty phials to carry blood, oil, and liquid from different monsters that are valuable. And ice magicite, to keep things cold in your pack, like meat."

"You have the same wild look in your eye that Anora got every time she thought of some way to spend my money," Loghain said. "What is it about shopping that turns otherwise sensible women into crazed beasts?"

"You have to spend coin to make coin," Elilia said. "I'm just thinking of all the gil you'll bring in once you have these things in your possession."

"She's right about that, Big Man," Varric said. "There's a fortune to be made from things like behemoth blood and frog oil and cockatrice meat, but it's hard to do if you can't carry it with you. The initial investment will pay itself off many times over in no time at all. And you should think about buying a treasure hunter. It's a device that beeps when you're near items made from glass, magicite, or metal. It's kind of expensive, but it pays for itself in all the lost equipment you end up finding."

"Why would there be so much lost equipment to be found?" Loghain asked.

"There's a lot of hunters in this world," Varric said. "All different types. Some people, a lot of them, head off into the unknown and never come back. Others come back hell bent for leather, with all their belongings strewn about their flight trajectory like molted feathers. You never know what you'll find."

"Sometimes things fall off of wagons on the caravan trails," Elilia said. "Or get lost when the caravans are attacked by monsters or bandits. The law of salvage in this world says that it belongs to whoever recovers it."

"Some people make a career out of treasure hunting," Varric said. "It can be pretty lucrative."

"All right, you've convinced me. I suppose this device requires a license to use?" Loghain said.

"Yeah, it does," Varric said. "Speaking of which, you have to get a license for your dog. Not a license box on your board, a dog license for it to wear on a collar. Otherwise the city guard might take it for a monster and kill it. The clan should have some of the forms handy; hunters are always bringing back tamed wolves."

"How does that work, taming? I thought Odd must have been someone's pet gone feral, but it sounds to me as if that's not expected to be the case," Loghain said.

"You'd want to ask Ma'Kenroh or maybe Krjn about that," Varric said. "They'd know more about it than I do."

"Who's Kreen?" Loghain asked.

"The viera up on the balcony."

"The one with the rabbit ears," Elilia said. "You probably haven't become familiar with viera yet. They're not exactly common."

"I've heard the name, but that's it. So viera are the ones with rabbit ears. I now know about viera, bangaa, seeq, nu mou, and moogles. Are there other races I'll have to become familiar with?"

"Lots. This world is crawling with peoples," Elilia said. "Almost as many beings as monsters, and sometimes you're not too sure about some of the monsters."

"You might see some garif on the Ozmone Plain," Varric said. "They live there."

"What do garif look like?" Loghain asked.

"Roughly humanoid. I can't be more specific than that, because they all wear these wild masks with huge horns. I think the horns are just part of the masks. They're friendly, though, which is more than can be said of most denizens of the plains," Varric said. "I'll track down a licensing form for your dog. I'll be right back."

The dwarf sauntered away, and the tails of his long leather coat almost brushed the floor as he walked. Loghain stood up and went up the stairs to talk to Ma'Kenroh, who was back on top of his short wall.

"Excuse me, Ser, I was wondering if you could possibly explain to me how taming works?" Loghain asked him. "Where I come from, wild animals stay wild, under ordinary circumstances."

"Ah. It's simple enough," Ma'Kenroh said in his quavery voice. "The weak submit to the strong. The more intelligent animals submit more readily than those duller of wit, but all will do so when properly dominated. Most hunters can't be bothered to run the risks involved in holding back a killing blow, but those that do find themselves with potentially very powerful allies. They mind their masters utterly, because from that moment forward they share a soul."

"Beg pardon?" Loghain said.

"You require clarification. The soul can be divided. When an animal is tamed, a fragment of your soul passes into the creature you've tamed. You may tame as many creatures as you have the ability to command, for even fragmented, the soul can never be diminished. It is eternal and infinite."

"My soul doesn't feel infinite," Loghain said.

Ma'Kenroh chuckled. "If you could feel your soul under ordinary circumstances you would spend your life engaged in nothing else. When you hear music that moves you inside, or see a beautiful work of art that sparks a quickening in you, then you may feel just the faintest sense of your soul. The physical vessel is a poor shell for such a glorious thing; only in death, released from the physical, can we truly experience the vastness of our own souls. In death, we become one with everything. You have felt this very thing, though you do not remember it. In a way, this is a blessing for you. If you retained the memory of that glory, you would spend the rest of your days knowing of what you were deprived. It would ruin your life."

Loghain had never imagined death to be all that wonderful, and retained his doubts, but he thanked Ma'Kenroh for the information, not that he completely understood it, and went back down the stairs. Varric waited there for him, and handed him a parchment scroll.

"Just fill this out and drop it in a postal box somewhere in town, and in a few days you'll get your license. You have to give 'em a mailing address, of course, so you'll want to have a specific place to stay for at least a few days."

"I'll fill this out as soon as I find out what a 'mailing address' is," Loghain said.

"We didn't have a standardized postal service in Ferelden," Elilia said. "A mailing address is the street name and house number of where you're staying. You can give them mine; 6402 Storeshed Row, North Sprawl, Lowtown."

"I haven't a quill," Loghain said. Varric pulled something out of his breast pocket and handed it to him. It appeared to be a blue fang tooth. Loghain looked a question at him.

"You write with it," Varric said. "You don't need ink, like with a quill."

Loghain examined the fang more closely. He could see nothing special about it, other than its color. He unfolded the parchment and began to fill in the blanks. His words printed on the page in what looked like dark blue ink. It was a small thing, but it was just one more way in which this world was strange to him. It made him feel very lonely. He was glad, in a way, that Elilia was there. She understood what he was going through. He was sorry that she'd had to go through it all alone.

"I'll show you a place you can drop that," Elilia said. "Let's go hunting already. My ass is going to grow roots if I sit here any longer."

"Fine by me," Loghain said. He stood up and shook Varric's hand. "It was good to meet you, Ser."

"Likewise," Varric said. "Good luck with your hunting."

Elilia preceded Loghain and Odd out of the clan hall, and showed him where the nearest postal box was located. Even as Teyrn, he'd never sent enough letters to warrant employing a full-time messenger. He wondered how useful a standardized message service would be. It implied that the bulk of the population was literate; Ferelden might not require such a thing.

Elilia took them out to the estersand, and they fought their way through the area all the way to a small fortress. Nalbina, Elilia said it was, and there was an orange magicite gate crystal outside the walls. Loghain touched it because she bade him to.

"See anything?" she asked.

"No. Should I?" Loghain said.

"You haven't touched the Rabanastre crystal yet," she said. "If you had, you'd see it in your mind, along with all the other teleport gate crystals you've touched. Focus on the one you want and fuse a teleport stone to the crystal, and off you go. I have the ambition to touch every gate crystal in Ivalice."

"How will you know when you've accomplished it?" Loghain asked.

"I won't. That's the beauty of it. Come on, I'll show you where another one is."

She led him back through the labyrinthine passages of the estersand to a wide-open space, where she cautioned him to keep an eye out for rare game. "It's called a nekhbet, and it's common enough in this area. Looks just like an ordinary cockatrice, with brown feathers, but it's a little bit bigger and a whole lot stronger. Adding it to your primer would be a nice boost for you."

There were plenty of cockatrices, and they slew as many as they could find. They stayed in the area for roughly an hour, during which time they tracked down cockatrices and wolves. Elilia showed him which cactites to kill for water, and they fed Odd. Finally, a nekhbet appeared. The power of the creature, only slightly larger than an ordinary cockatrice, took Loghain somewhat by surprise, but it fell easily enough beneath his blade. Elilia made the carcass small and stowed it in her pack with the meat of the other cockatrices they took, for she had ice magicite in her bag to keep it fresh. Then she showed him down the hill to the banks of a wide, blue river, where there was a tiny village. An orange gate crystal stood inside the little circle of huts. When he placed his hand upon it, Loghain saw the image of the Nalbina crystal in his mind. He didn't have any teleport stones remaining to him, so he couldn't try it out. After his experience with the Moogling, he wasn't eager to make the experiment.

They took the village ferry to the north bank, where the other half of the village was located. They went out into the desert and found different animals, red worgen instead of wolves. Worgen were virtually identical to wolves except in their color, but they were also larger and more powerful. Elilia bottled their blood to sell. She claimed it was worth quite a bit of coin. They returned to the south bank when they were ready to quit for the night and walked back to the city.

"We took quite a bit of loot," Elilia said as they walked. "I'll bet you'll be able to afford some leathers and a nice bow once we've sold it all. But that can wait 'til tomorrow. Right now, I'm starving. Let's head to the Sandsea and get a couple of steaks."

"Sounds good to me," Loghain said. "It's been a long time since that bowl of soup."

They returned to the tavern, where Loghain left Odd to sit on the patio and wait, and sat at a table on the balcony above the bar. Tomaj came to serve them, and Elilia ordered for both of them: Behemoth steaks with coal-baked potatoes and summer ale. They waited for their meals in silence, and Loghain liked that. He'd done more talking during the day than he was used to, and he was quite tired of words. When their meals arrived silence reigned for the first few bites.

"This is good," Loghain said. "I'm not too sure about the purple potato, but this is good. Delicious, in fact."

"Behemoth steak is very…invigorating," Elilia said. "It's a great way to end a long day of hunting."

Loghain took a sip of ale. He put down his tankard and looked at Elilia. "You look like you have something to say," he said.

"Don't waste money on a room for the night," she said. "Stay with me. You don't have to sleep on the couch."

"Where then would I sleep?" Loghain asked.

She grew coy. "Where do you think?"

"I presume 'on the floor,' for you could not be suggesting what it seems you are suggesting."

"I'm pretty sure I'm suggesting exactly what it seems I am suggesting," she said. "Eat your steak."

He put down his knife and fork. "You are not asking me to sleep with you," he said.

"If you need it stated baldly, yes I am," she said. "Eat your steak."

"Elilia, we are agreed that you are not prejudiced. You don't have to sleep with me to prove it," he said.

She drew herself up in her chair. Her face registered umbrage. "I wasn't even thinking about that, thank you very much."

"Elilia, I'm an old man."

"No you're not. You're younger than me, now. I would imagine this is how you looked during the Rebellion. Fresh-faced and not exactly innocent."

"Having a body less than twenty-four hours old does not make me a young man, young lady," he said.

"It's a big help," she said. "What is there to lose? Eat your steak."

He took a bite, to shut her up about it, chewed and swallowed. "There are plenty of consequences to risky behavior. As a woman, you should be thinking about one in particular."

"There are ways to prevent that particular 'consequence,'" she said.

"And none of them fail-proof."

"What are you afraid of?" she said. "Do you think I'll make you marry me? I can assure you, that's not going to happen."

"I can't even believe I'm having this conversation. What's wrong with you, girl? You can't seriously be attracted to me," he said.

"I like your eyes," she said, with a smile. Then her smile broadened. "The rest of you is hideous."

"Harpy," he said, not without a strong feeling of relief. "You're teasing me. Stop it. It's unworthy of you."

"I'm teasing you, but not about wanting you. I'm attracted to you. I thought the feeling might be mutual, but perhaps I was wrong. It's not like I'm used to the feeling of a man giving me the eye," she said.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt too tight. "You weren't wrong," he said, even though it pained him to admit it.

A foot, slipped from its boot, made its way up the inside of his leg. "Then what's the problem?" she asked. "I have no expectations."

"You must have some kind of expectations, or you wouldn't make the offer," he said. "Unless you make this same offer to every man you meet."

"Believe it or not, I don't," she said. "I've only ever made this offer to one other man, and that was out of curiosity, not attraction."

"Oh yeah? And how did that work out for you?" he asked.

"Not well," she said, lightly enough. "That was the night I died."

I would have protected you, he thought, and then shook himself for thinking it. Out loud he said, "Not a consequence of your actions, but I should have thought it would make you leery of additional experimentation."

"Why should it? It wasn't a consequence of my actions," she said. "I can't imagine it happening again tonight."

"I don't jump into bed with women I've only just met," he said.

"Why not? What's the harm in reaching for something you want, especially when it's offered?" she said. "What are you afraid of?"

What was he afraid of? There was certainly an element of fear in his heart. Was that the reason, the real reason, he wasn't like Maric or a score of other men he knew of who treated sex casually? Because he was, quite simply, afraid of having his heart broken? It had broken before, and he survived it. He didn't like the thought that he might have let fear rule him, as he'd done during the Blight. Certainly he wasn't about to jump into bed with every woman who gave him the time of day, but to pass up what might be a very good thing on the basis of fear alone?

He could lose his heart to this wild girl, he knew that. It could happen quite easily. But with reasonable precautions, there needn't be any other unfortunate consequences to seeking a night's comfort in her arms. Nothing he couldn't survive. It might be hard to meet her eyes in the morning, but that, too, was survivable.

He looked down at his half-eaten steak. He didn't have much stomach for it any longer, but he forced himself to take another bite and chew it slowly. It gave him time to mull on what he was now seriously considering. He swallowed.

"Are you certain that this is…something you want?" he asked. "I'm no one's dream."

She laughed. "Evidently you aren't having the right kind of dreams."

"I just want you to be sure. Even a casual encounter of this nature shouldn't be taken too lightly."

"Will you relax already? I don't take it lightly. We'll take all proper precautions. Finish your steak."

"Why are you so concerned with my eating habits?" he asked.

She smiled a cockeyed smile, her eyes slightly wild. "Because behemoth steak is quite invigorating," she said.

He took her meaning. "Oh." He took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. "Speaking of precautions, you know I have no idea where to lay hands on such things."

"Relax. Migelo keeps all that sort of thing behind the counter at his store," Elilia said. "He'll still be open when we leave here."

"It will be hard enough asking Migelo for a bloody condom. What am I supposed to do if that little girl is manning the counter?"

Elilia laughed. "Ask her for Migelo, of course. She won't think anything of it."

"You make it sound so easy," he said.

"It is easy," she said. "You'll see. There's nothing to be afraid of."

He favored her with a severe glare and finished his steak in silence. Tomaj came around and asked if they'd like dessert or a refill on their drinks.

"Thanks, Tomaj, but we're good to go," Elilia said.

Tomaj gave Loghain a look and a sidelong smile. "Will you be staying with us tonight, Sir, or have you made other arrangements?"

Loghain looked at Elilia. It was the moment of truth. "I've…made other arrangements, Tomaj."

"Very good, Sir. I'll just bring the check 'round."

Elilia paid up the tab, over Loghain's objections, and in a few minutes' time they were out on the street outside, where Odd rejoined them with his tail a-wag. She tugged Loghain in the direction of Migelo's Sundries and he allowed himself to be pulled, but outside the door he set his heels.

"You wait out here," he said. "There's no need for both of us to be embarrassed."

"You're assuming I would be embarrassed. I wouldn't. But as you will; I'll wait here," she said.

He left her there with Odd, and entered the shop. Fortunately it was Migelo behind the counter, and not Penelo.

"Loghain! Good to see you. How are you? Settling in?" Migelo said.

Loghain cleared his throat. "Yes. Well enough, I guess. I, ah…need to make a purchase, actually."

"Of course! What do you need?"

"A c-…a condom."

Migelo's smile twisted slightly. "Well, you work fast. What, ah…what size?"

Loghain blanked. "I don't know how to answer that question," he said.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't have to ask it, but you're a lot bigger than other humes I've seen. If everything's proportioned to scale, you might be better off with the bangaa size rather than the hume size."

"I…can't be that much bigger than any other man. Give me the human size."

Migelo disappeared below the countertop for a moment and reemerged with his hand covering something. He handed it over discretely. "Five gil."

Loghain reached into his coin purse and felt out five silver coins. He handed them over. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And…have a good evening."

Loghain touched his brow in salute and turned to leave the store. The lamb skin condom in his hand weighed on his conscience, but he found he could bear it. He could bear, too, whatever opinion Migelo formed of him. He might get a reputation in this world as a fast operator. Maric would laugh his head off.

He gained the street outside and received a sharp check. Elilia was not there; Odd greeted him alone. Perhaps this was how she got her jollies: build a man up and then leave him gasping. He felt like an idiot. He stood in the middle of the street with a reusable condom in his hand and pondered what to do next.

Then he saw her, on her way back towards him from the alley that led to the Muthru Bazaar. She had something in her hands, a pair of vaguely pearish fruits with deep ridges.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," she said, when she was closer. "I just had this vision of you and me sharing something sweet and sticky." She held up one of the fruits. "And then eating fruit."

"When you weren't there, I thought…well…never mind what I thought," Loghain said.

She smiled. "Did you think I'd abandoned you? Come on, I want to get you home."

They headed back north, towards a nearby set of stairs to Lowtown. "Let me see the…thing," she said as they walked. Loghain handed her the condom. She held it up and let it dangle. She laughed out loud.

"Don't wave it about," Loghain said.

"What's the red silk ribbon for? Do you take it out or leave it in?" she said.

"Hell if I know," Loghain said. He snatched the condom back from her and stuffed it in his pocket. "I've never used one of these things before."

"I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that you can use it over and over again," she said. "But I suppose it's no different than the fact you can use the thing it covers over and over again."

"Well, I'm a trifle more confident in my ability to adequately wash the thing it covers," Loghain said.

They descended into Lowtown, where it was dark and cool. There were fewer people in evidence, but Loghain still felt the weight of eyes on him as he was led onward toward Elilia's home. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, then turned around, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and pulled him in after her. She kissed him as Odd pushed past them into the first room and flopped down on the floor. Elilia pulled away and closed the door.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said. "It will only take a couple of minutes."

"What's a shower?" Loghain asked.

She smiled. "You'll have to take one and find out. You could join me in mine, but I think for now I'd prefer to wash myself. For now."

She disappeared into a back room. Loghain remained in the first room and wandered aimlessly. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He sat down on the edge of the couch that was the central piece of furniture and scratched Odd's ears. In about fifteen minutes, Elilia's voice drifted out of the back room.

"I'm ready," she said. Loghain stood up, gave himself a strong mental shake, and headed for the door to the back room.

It was, as he had suspected, her bedroom. She lay across the small bed, just barely large enough for two people, with her golden hair damp and dark on the pillow. She wore a skimpy nightgown of peach-colored satin. Damp peach-colored satin, which clung to her body and disclosed much that ought to have been hidden.

"I suppose I should have dried myself a little better," she said, "but somehow being wet just felt…right."

"It might make your bedclothes a bit musty," he said, through a dry mouth.

"I'll wash them tomorrow," she said. She patted the bed next to her. "Come here."

He approached, with much the same confidence as a man might approach a sleeping dragon. She laughed at him. "Come here," she said again, more firmly.

He stood next to the side of the bed, and she reached up and untied the laces of his shirt. She tugged him down for another kiss and slid her hand across his chest, under his shirt. "All right, off with the trousers," she said, when she broke the kiss.

"Slow down a bit," he said. "If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed her, a deeper kiss than any they'd yet shared. His hand touched her satin-covered breast and he cupped it, and ran his thumb over the point of her nipple. She moaned into his mouth. He squeezed her breast gently and then slid his hand down her side and onto her hip. He pushed up the hem of her nightgown and kissed his way down her throat. She plunged her hands into his hair as he nuzzled her breasts.

"Are you sure the trousers can't come off now?" she asked. He raised his face from her bosom with a wolfish smile on his lips.

"Patience," he said. As he spoke, he stroked a finger hard across her clitoris. She jumped and pulled his hair.

"Damn," she said, breathlessly. "I didn't even notice your hand going in there."

"My greatest weapon is always the element of surprise," he said. He lowered his face to her breasts again.

She shivered. If it started out as pleasure, it didn't end that way. The shiver continued. He looked up again.

"You're cold," he said.

"It is a little chilly in here," she said.

"And you're wet." He got up and grabbed the quilt that was folded on the end of the bed.

"No," she said, a near howl. "I'll warm up."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, and threw the blanket over her. He tucked her in well and then stood at the foot of the bed and surveyed the scene.

"This is not how I want to spend my evening," she said, in a grumble.

"Don't worry," he said, and picked up the end of the quilt. He crawled underneath it and up her legs. She shrieked laughter and her hands found his hair again.

It was so long since Celia passed, and he'd so firmly pushed that part of his life into the status of past history, he'd nearly forgotten how good it was to satisfy a woman. He took his time about it, though his youthened body urged him to a swifter pace. It took some effort of will to hold out against his body's urges. When the clothes finally came off he was more than ready for it, but he'd made certain that she was, too. She was no virgin, but her body was. He didn't know or much care what her first virgin experience was like, but he intended to give this one his very best effort. The next time he came eye-to-eye with her, he wanted to be able to meet her gaze.

The condom caused some consternation. Neither one of them knew how to use it exactly, and Elilia laughed a great deal as they fumbled with it. They finally decided that the red silk ribbon was just to make it easier to pull the thing open and should be removed. He hoped it wasn't for tying the damned thing on.

"You should have bought the bangaa-sized one," she said, and giggled.

"This works," he said. He hoped that was true. All he knew was that he was swiftly losing the mood. Then she reached down and stroked him, and even though he couldn't feel it quite as well as he should have he found he wasn't out of the mood after all.

After it was over and they ate their fruit and the condom lay forgotten on the floor by the bed, Elilia snuggled close against his chest and sighed.

"Here I thought I was going to have to tell you what to do every step of the way," she said. "But you ended up teaching me things I didn't know about."

"I was never promiscuous, but I don't lack for experience. I was married for nearly twenty years."

"I guess there's something to be said for monogamy. Were you ever with a woman you weren't married to?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Not while I was married."

She giggled. "Of course. Tell me about her."

"My wife?"

"No, the other woman. The one you weren't married to."

"What makes you assume there was only one?" he said.

"You just don't seem like the type who does…this…often. More than once, actually. So if you were with a woman you weren't married to, you must have been in love with her."

He sighed. "You don't really want to hear about that now, do you?"

"I'm just curious. I want to know what 'type' you're into."

He sighed again. "She was…a lot like you, actually. A warrior. Powerful. Beautiful. She was also extremely out of my league."

"But she slept with you," she said.

"Don't read too much into it. She'd just found out that the man she was in love with was putting it to an elven spy. Or maybe she'd known for awhile and I had just found out."

"So, what? You think she slept with you just because she was hurt and you were handy?" she said.

"Not entirely. I don't think I'm wrong about there having been some mutual attraction. But she settled for me, most definitely."

"Just the once?"

"That was all we had time for. When we got back to the army we were back in the shit, and shortly thereafter we confirmed our suspicions that the elf was a spy, and she went back to Maric. Or rather, I made Rowan go back to Maric."

Elilia propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes wide. "It was Queen Rowan?" she said.

"She wasn't queen at the time," Loghain said.

"Even so," she said.

"I said she was out of my league," he said.

"Would you have married her?" she asked.

"Given half a chance, and if she would have agreed to it, yes."

"How did you end up married to someone else?" she asked.

"By arrangement. The nobility were afraid I would marry into one of their families, so Maric set me up with a girl from Gwaren, where the army was garrisoned at the time. I put my feelings for Rowan aside and loved her as best as I was capable. Did pretty well at it, too, until Rowan died. After that the guilt got a little heavy to bear for a time."

"Because you still loved her," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I suppose so," he said, though he knew full well it was true.

"Do you still regret that you didn't get to marry her?" Elilia asked.

"What is with all these questions?" he said. "No, I don't regret it. Not truly. Fate knew what was best. Rowan and I never got along all that well. She always seemed to feel there was some competition between us, and we were too alike in terms of temperament. I would have driven her away sooner or later. I loved her…I love her still…but we were never meant to be together."

"You believe in fate?" she asked.

"I believe that something guides our lives. I used to believe it was fate; now I'm wondering if there isn't a more intelligent hand behind it all. Someone or something put us here. Maybe it was the Maker."

"They believe He's gone from this world, too, you know," Elilia said.

"Well. Maybe it was one of these other gods they speak of."

Elilia pushed him over onto his back and straddled him. "I don't want to talk about gods and other women anymore," she said.

"You're the one that brought it all up," he said.

"And I'm the one that's putting it by," she said. "I couldn't help but notice, all the while we were…having fun…you were pretty focused on me. There wasn't much in it for you."

"I beg to differ," he said.

"Be that as it may, I think now we can see about doing a little something for you."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Let me show you," she said.

A/N: This chapter is all conversation, I know. What can I say? I'm a dialogue hound. Loghain should quieten from here on out. Elilia will remain a chatty cathy. As to the fact that Loghain knows what a condom is, all I can say is they've definitively been around since the seventeen hundreds (Casanova wrote quite lovingly of his) and probably predate that by centuries. It is such a simple little invention. And yes, the original condoms were reusable. Ick.