Author's Note: I'm so excited to have more people interested in this story! Just a warning, I'm right on the tail end but I hope you enjoy :D

~Casts a Shadow~

"No, Bodahn, I have to talk to Sandal," Drea insisted, trying to stop the frustration from taking over her tone.

"I understand Commander, but this takes all his concentration. If I let you in there, it will just slow him down," Bodahn begged her to listen to reason.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Drea replied decisively, "He may not be finished all of them, but I can't wait. I'm leaving with whatever is ready." Bodahn opened his mouth to reply, but she turned away from him and pushed her way through the door.

Sitting at the table with his hands folded in front of him, Sandal calmly looked at Drea. It was as though he was expecting her. In his slow, deliberate way of speaking, Sandal quietly greeted her, "Hello."

Drea hesitated in the door way, "Sandal?" He only smiled shyly in return before he dropped his gaze to the floor. Keeping her tone light, she added, "I'm glad I caught you on a break Sandal, because I was hoping to talk to you."

Sandal looked up again and glanced between Drea and Bodahn, but remained silent. Carefully, Drea pushed on, "Sandal, I need to ask you about the runes."

Before she could ask her question, Sandal announced, "You're leaving tomorrow."

Again Drea hesitated and glanced at Bodahn who kept focused on his adopted son. Looking past him to the door, she realized he must have heard them talking before she came in. Turning back she nodded in agreement, "Yes, I am leaving tomorrow. I was hoping to take some of the finished runes with me."

"They'll be ready for tomorrow," he replied, smiling proudly.

Drea pursed her lips together in doubt. When she first spoke to the dwarves of her plan for the runes, Bodahn was quick to dismiss it as impossible. Sandal, however, seemed thrilled by the idea and quickly agreed to try. Despite Sandal's childlike excitement, Drea could see on Bodahn's face that she'd be lucky if it actually worked out. Having it completed within a week seemed too good to be true. "All of them?" Drea finally asked.

"All ready to for tomorrow," he confirmed before adding, "Just like we planned."

A knot suddenly formed in her stomach and after another awkward silence, Drea asked, "Who's 'we' Sandal? I just found out that I'm leaving tomorrow."

"All ready for tomorrow," he innocently repeated as he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, Bodahn drowned Sandal out as he loudly spoke to Drea, "There you see? It's no problem then, everything will be ready for when you go."

"I'm hungry," Sandal complained before he turned back to the rune he had been working on.

"Just keep working, I'll get you some food my boy," Bodahn promised as he started ushering Drea from the room.

Firmly planting her feet before he whisked her out the door, Drea whispered to Bodahn, "What is this? Is he saying he knew a week ago what would happen today?"

Nervously chuckling, Bodahn shook his head, "Absolutely not, I assure you."

"Because I've had about all I can take for magical surprises," she added, humourlessly.

"Magic?" his chuckle was less nervous as he replied more confidently, "Dwarves are immune to magic; there is no magic here. The boy just says things but he's harmless. It's like I told you, he's been like this ever since I found him in the Deep Roads. He might even have a touch of lyrium poisoning, who knows?"

His words came out in a rush as he opened the door and tried to guide her out. Reluctantly, Drea followed him out of the room.

There was nothing more to be said about Sandal's odd comments but it stayed on her mind for quite some time. Even as she found herself in her study, waiting for the others, that brief encounter played over in her head. Did he simply think the project would only take him a week or did he really know she was leaving so soon? Who did he mean when he said we? If, as Bodahn claimed, he says odd things often, what else has he said? If her need to leave wasn't so great, she would have forced some more answers.

The opening door interrupted her cycling thoughts. Guided by Seneschal Varel, the people she requested all filed into the room. Within moments, the three had joined her around the table: Nate, Anders, and Leliana. After giving a deep bow to Drea, Varel seemed more than happy to leave the room.

Looking between the faces of those in the room, it was impossible to miss the misery staring back. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and for a moment Drea wondered if it was as stupid as it seemed to have Nate and Leliana around the same table. Yet it was unavoidable. Keeping her expression neutral, she started, "Morrigan is in Orlais."

Nate and Anders subtly exchanged glances while Leliana continued to stare forward. When no one replied, Drea continued, "So our next move is to follow her."

Forcing himself not to acknowledge Leliana, Nate stared hard at Drea as he questioned, "Us? The exact people in this room?"

Subconsciously, Drea began to rub the back of her neck as she nodded. Gently skirting around the awkwardness, Drea replied, "I know it might not seem…ideal…but I have a plan and the only way it's going to work is with precise ranged skills." Blankly, the three watched her, not offering any comments to ease the uncomfortable feeling in the room. Abruptly, she clarified, "You two aren't just the best archers here. You are the best I have ever seen. Leliana, you're not one of my Wardens, so it's your decision if you help. But there is no one else who can do this."

"So," Anders interrupted before Leliana could reply, "What do you need from me then?"

Ashlyn had only been free for a short time but Drea could already see the life back in Anders' eyes as he regarded her curiously. Inwardly Drea braced herself, already knowing her next words would upset him, "I need you to stay here."

Much as she expected, his curious expression instantly soured as he blurted, "What? But I'm a mage – I can fight at a distance. It's kind of our thing…"

"You are a mage," Drea solemnly agreed, "And that's why I can't have you there. I don't know what to expect exactly, but we might be heading into another Flemeth-loaded trap. If that's the case, I can't walk into that with a mage."

Scoffing, Anders argued, "The best way to battle a mage is with a Templar or another mage. Since we don't happen to have a Templar with us…"

"No," Drea firmly spoke over him. "Flemeth knows old magic. She is old magic. What if bringing a mage with us is just bringing her another weapon? I will not underestimate her again."

His doubtful expression spoke for him, and Drea added, "Anders, I need you here. Nate has managed to get five recruits from Captain Garevel and tonight…" Drea paused long enough to sneak a glance at Leliana. Trying to sound natural, she finished, "tonight we're going to induct them. They'll need a Warden to be with them – I need you to stay."

"You mean you need me to babysit," Anders bitterly corrected her.

"I need you to guide them. The order will need a leader," she replied matter-of-factly.

Anders hesitated for a moment as he caught the odd tone in her voice. "You sound as if you don't plan on coming back."

Everything was happening so quickly that she had no time to give it thought. But hearing those words out loud, she realized that at least part of her believed it was true. Seriously, she answered, "I think it's fair to say the odds are against me."

"They're always against you," he replied carefully.

"And it's high time I start planning for the odds," she agreed.

"All the more reason you need me there," he argued, "What about the runes, won't one of those keep me safe so I can keep you safe?"

Finally sighing, Drea shook her head, "I won't have enough. Anders, I need you to listen to me. I am your Commander, and I am telling you to stay here."

Tinges of pink flushed to his cheeks as his words came out more heatedly, "But I'm not a leader! If you're going out there to get yourself killed, you can't leave me the one in charge here."

"When Nate returns, you can relinquish the authority to him then," Drea offered.

Frowning, Nate opened his mouth to argue, but Anders gave him no time before he shot back, "If he returns! If you don't make it back, what makes you think he will? And even if it works out that way – you are traveling to Orlais! Realistically, this is still leaving me in command for months. You can't possible think that's a good idea!"

Drea's gaze grew distant as she seemed to stare past the mage at something no one else could see. After a moment, she replied, "I told you not to thank me the day I recruited you, Anders. I told you I was just trading you one prison for another."

Seeing the conversation was officially ended, he spoke with a distinct coldness, "Then there's nothing more to discuss here?" Slowly, she shook her head. Drawing himself to his feet, he looked at the two archers, "Then I wish you all the best of luck." After nodding his head to Drea, he briskly walked from the room.

As the door closed loudly behind him, Drea's heart dropped. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate the man who had been at her side through so much. But she had no time for tact – something which was never her strong suit to begin with. In the uncomfortable stillness that followed his exit, she was painfully aware of the two sets of eyes burning a hole through her. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to start in on her plan.

"And why exactly are we running back east, hmm?" She thought quietly to herself, "Are you a scared child after all, just wanting the comfort of home? Or do you actually believe you'll be safe there?"

Like a ghost, Flemeth watched Morrigan from a distance as she continued to scramble over the rocky terrain along the coast. She was in her human form and clearly exhausted. Her skin was so pale it was almost grey and her sunken eyes were rimmed with dark circles. Finally, her son began to cry as she roughly stumbled over the unstable rocks. Morrigan glanced at the material binding him to her torso to make sure he was secure but made no move to comfort him. Numbly, she carried on.

"Run, run little mouse," Flemeth silently urged her daughter on. The more Morrigan wore herself down, the easier it would be to swoop in and take all she wanted.