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Jade is awake in time to see Howe be dropped onto an empty cot in the corner. "A spare? How did that happen? Where do you keep finding these people?"

"He came here to kill the Wardens responsible for offing his daddy dearest and got a darkspawn bite for his efforts," Lynx bluntly explains while adjusting the human's body into a more comfortable position, "When he learned of his options, he decided that he didn't want to have a go at playing a darkspawn."

"Sounds like karma is in working order at the moment," the elf brushes his green tinted locks away from his face as he shuffles over and peers down at the comatose rogue, "Can he be trusted?"

"Not even a little bit," his aunt admits in Chaisnd, then gestures for him to follow her out of the room, "Chellick, Rosa, and Yuri didn't make it kiddo. Zev had found them and we tried to put them through the Joining, but their wounds...I'm sorry, I know they were your friends."

"You did what you could Aunt, that's all they-or I-could have asked for," the young mage counters, his tone thick with sadness, "They actually wanted to become part of the Lost, spending an eternity fighting monsters. Yet I am standing here instead, the only one who didn't want it. Talk about irony."

"Life's funny that way," Lynx shakes her snowy head, "Besides, more often than not, we find ourselves battling monsters of the more common variety."

A movement catches the elf blood's attention and she spins around to find a confused Mhairi gawking at them.

"What language are you speaking?" the Orlesian warrior timidly inquires after a few heartbeats of silence, "Dalish? It sounds beautiful."

The elder Greycloak can't help but chuckle at the woman's naivete, "No, it's Chaisnd. This is Dalish. Ma isala'bel ir nomin asha."

"What does that mean?" the girl prods, her eyes wide and shining with curiosity.

"It roughly translates as 'May you find much wisdom'," the apostate glibly replies while her nephew struggles to maintain a passive countenance, "Now go find the kitchens and grab something to eat because the infamous Warden appetite will be kicking in very shortly."

"Of course Ser, merci," Mhairi salutes before she can be stopped, then marches off.

"Asal deas," Jade murmurs approvingly, his eyes trained on the Orlesians rump as she disappears around the corner.

"Í a choimeád i do bríste," Lynx swats the back of his head, "You need to eat as well. Be prepared to pack away as much as your parents can, if not more."

"Yes Auntie," he swings around and cheekily ambushes her with a peck on the cheek before trotting down the hall-and out of reach, "Play nice with the other kids while I'm gone!"

The hedge mage is still fighting down her mana when Anders trudges out a few minutes later, yawning and scratching at his whiskers, "What's got your feathers all ruffled oh fearless leader?"

"Great, another jackass who thinks he's irresistible," she grumbles to herself, then peers up at the smiling mage, "Nothing. Head down to the kitchen and grab something to eat while you have the chance, the others should be awake soon."

He gives her a salacious wink, "You know, I'd be more than willing to help you relieve some of that tension you seem to be carrying around. After all, it is a subordinate's duty to keep their leader in a pleasant state of mind and I've been told that I am particularly talented when I use my tong-"

"That will not be necessary," a velvet accent drawls as arms wind around the elder Warden's waist from behind and the aroma of cloves, leather, honey and steel invades her senses, "I can take care of my wife's troubles just fine, but thank you for your gracious offer."

Anders-now every inch appearing to be a caged rabbit-pales slightly as he takes a step back and nods, "Of course Ser, my apologies."

Zevran's lean form quakes with suppressed mirth, though he only allows it to bubble over after the human has retreated, "I did not mean to intrude dea, but I am almost certain that you would have regretted killing a new recruit once we began our hunt for the darkspawn."

"Dammit, you're right," she grudgingly admits as he playfully nips at her neck then relinquishes his hold, "I still have to check on Oghren and Nathaniel, see how they're progressing. Maybe fortune will smile down on me and they will have awakened and murdered each other already."

"You don't mean that cara, Oghren always shares his best spirits with you," her assassin snickers at her glare, "I know you don't drink it, but it's the thought that counts, yes? I'll see to the other children while you're busy. And do not trouble yourself with sending a missive to our illustrious commander, I did so while you were dealing with Howe."

"It's not the alcohol that has ever bothered me...it's the smell. You'd figure that Felsi would make him bathe every once in a while," Lynx pauses at the door, "Then again, that is probably the reason he skipped out on her and that kid. Too clean for his taste."

Inside the chambers, Oghren's steady snores resonate against the stone. The elf blood is unsurprised to discover that not only is Nathaniel awake, but is vainly attempting to stare a hole in the steel cuff that is presently binding him to his cot.

"Is this truly necessary?" the disgraced noble snipes, indicating the shackle with a shake of his arm, "I gave you my word, did I not?"

She waves a hand, unlocking the restraint, "What did you honestly expect me to do, especially after hearing you admit that you came here with the intent to slaughter Grey Wardens? The last time someone trusted a Howe at their word, a lot of people died. I would not shame Gabriel by allowing that to happen a second time."

"You know Gabriel? Gabriel Cousland?" Nathaniel's sharp tone softens with concern, "What of him and his brother Fergus? Are they-"

"Gabe died on the roof of Fort Drakon, delivering the fatal blow to the archdemon, and Fergus was left crippled by an injury he sustained during the blight but has returned to his home in Highever," she briskly responds, "The rest of the Couslands were killed by your father and his lackeys before the battle of Ostagar. Now, go down and eat, you'll need your strength for what is to come."

"And what is coming?"

Lynx levels her violet gaze to his own-thoughtful for a moment-then she shrugs a shoulder, "No one is really sure, but do I know that it's going to involve a fuckton of darkspawn and we're currently down over a dozens Wardens, so be ready to work your ass off."

Shocked by her tone and colorful language, the man gives her a mute nod and makes his way out of the room.

Finally left alone with her thoughts, the hedge mage tilts her head to stare at the ceiling and blows out a frustrated sigh, "I'm going to kill Alistair for this."

Translation-

Ma isala'bel ir nomin asha—You are in need or much more knowledge girl

Asal deas-nice ass

Í a choimeád i do bríste-Keep it in your trousers