I still don't own so don't bother suing :-P

"Mosley is actually his surname," Eileen corrects over her clay mug, her eyes focused on the dancing flames of the campfire, "And he is not a snake. Lysander is a good man who used to lead an honest life, that is until my father ruined him..."

The young noblewoman goes on to reveal that her father-Edgar Bensley- was a staunch supporter of Rendon Howe while Lysander Mosley-a common born man who inherited his illegitimate father's estate upon his death-hated everything the former Arl stood for. Bensley had also coveted Mosley's holdings, so when Howe had reached the pinnacle of his power, Bensley had made use of his connection to the madman. Lysander was stripped of all he owned and banished, forced to leave Eileen behind in order to spare both their lives.

"Eventually Lysander ended up on a ship called the Siren's Call-trying to save enough money for us to escape my father for good-but all of that changed when the captain informed the crew that she would be leaving Ferelden behind for a time," the girl confesses, trails of wetness beginning to fall down her cheeks, "So my beloved collected his earnings and made his way back to Amaranthine. Back to me."

"So your father made up the whole damn story about your husband just so we would help him," I deduce, then huff in irritation when Bensley's true goal makes itself known, "Your father had hoped that we would kill first and ask questions later, thus giving you someone to blame besides him. Why do people keep thinking Grey Wardens are stupid?"

"Look at who you're married to," Gavin glibly retorts with a smirk, then gets to his feet and pulls his cloak tighter around his body, "I'm hitting the hay, wake me for second watch."

"Aren't you at least going to wait and see what the Commander decides?" Anders calls after the ranger as he slinks off.

"She's going to let the girl go and tell her father that the bandits trail went cold at the coast," the Chaisnd man replies over his shoulder before crawling into the lone tent in the encampment and closing the flap.

The mage stares at the shelter with a bewildered expression for a moment, then shifts around to peer at me. "Well?"

"That sounded good to me," I shrug a shoulder as I curl around Havoc's prone form, his paws poking up into the night air, "Tell Gavin to wake me for third watch."

"But who's on first?"

"You," the group-sans Eileen- fires back.

Hours later I am woken by a hand on my arm and a low growl being emitted from my mabari. I glance up to see Gavin gazing into the darkness, "I think our wayward guest has a visitor and he's as loud as the dwarf."

I stroke the annoyed war hound's muscular back just as a young man emerges from the black, his hands raised in supplication, "Please, I mean no harm, I just wanted to collect my wife. Just let us go and all of us can go our separate ways with no losses on either side."

"You're heading towards the Frostbacks, right?" I ask as I sit up and stretch the weariness out of my muscles while he creeps over to his bride and rouses her.

The young man catches on to my line of thinkng and smiles," Oh yes, after we leave here, we'll sail to Redcliffe if we can't find passage to Jader. From there we will make our way through the mountains and out of Ferelden. I've heard there are parts of Orlais ripe for farming nearly all year round, maybe we'll settle there to raise our family."

I take the information in stride but tuck it away for later, "Stay away from the Free Marches, there have been reports of unrest coming out of that region."

Thank you Ser Commander," Eileen beams while her spouse winds his cloak around her, "The Grey Wardens will always have friends in us, for what it's worth."

"We're just doing what is right," I automatically respond, then shake their hands before they meld back into the night.

"It's nearly time for your watch, mind if I turn in?" Gavin pipes up after making a show of yawning.

I roll my eyes and pull the hood of my mantle of my dew damped hair, "This, coming from the man with the tent? I should have kicked your sorry arse out of it and slept in there myself."

"It's not my fault you couldn't carry the extra weight," he smirks evilly, then disappears into his tent just as a rocks is lobbed in his direction.

The conversation on the ride back is nearly as silly as the day before, with the added amusement of Oghren calling Anders a different female name every time he get a chance. Byt the time we enter the gates of the Vigil late that evening, I'm almost positive that the mage is going to roast the berserker as soon as he can get the dwarf away from any witnesses.

Mischa, always the night owl, is the one to greet us after we get the horses situated in the stables, "Well Commander, that was fast."

I tug my helm off and run a hand through my damn locks, "Long story short, she wasn't kidnapped, she got married. Bensley was a lackey of Howe's but Mosley was not. The happy couple is now on their way to a new life, the end. Now if you would kindly point me towards a free room where I can lay down and die for a little while, I'd be eternally grateful."

"Follow me," she says without hesitation, causing five sets of shuffling footsteps to echo after her as she leads the way to the second level.

Slowly the others are directed to their rooms, leaving just me when she points to a room at the end of the hall. I slip inside the chambers and am immediately met with two furry muzzles forcing their way into my hands. I give Cheddar and Havoc a loving pat before stripping my gear off as quietly as possible then literally crawling into the massive bed. Even unconscious, my husband seems to recognize my presence and he pulls me into his strong arms as I rest my head in the crook of his neck and threat my fingers through his golden waves that are sprawled across the pillow. Then blackness consumes all.

I feel Alistair's lips dance across the back of my neck, his teeth occasionally grazing the sensitive flesh as the tip of his arousal finds my entrance and slips in to the hilt. I reflexively lean into his touch as calloused fingers travel down my body to find the cluster of nerves hidden between the apex of my thighs. Gasp after gasp rattles out of my throat as his digits and hips move with a slow, torturous rhythm. Not a word is exchanged between us as we move together, and over an hour later soft whimpers are the only sounds that echo through the space when we finally find release.

Afterwards, my beloved holds me tight, his light, feathery kisses telling me how much I've been missed, as the dark room slowly brightens with the rising sun. Our bubble is gently dispersed finally when he cups my ravaged cheek and murmurs an 'I love you' against my lips and I return the sentiment just as softly. His kisses begin moving southward once again, never increasing in urgency or speed-

Knock-knock.

Short I know, but that's where it wanted to end.