(After the massive head trauma that was the last chapter, I thought Ellyn deserved a bit of fluff. Lots of dialogue coming up.

For more on Ellyn's past, please read "The Six Year Old Who Wanted Nothing.")

1

Alistair counted the minutes, the hours, the days. If this kept up, he would have to move onto weeks. It had been thirteen days, maybe four more hours, and he had no idea how many minutes. There was no way to tell the time when it all happened.

Ellyn hadn't spoken. She hadn't done anything, actually. He sat by her bedside, ladled soup down her throat at set hours, and Wynne's herbal mixture at another set number of hours. Morrigan urged them to all move on; Ellyn could always catch up when she wakes. Everyone passed looks between them then, a silent consensus he refused to share. If she wakes.

They found her inside a circle drawn with dried blood, with fresh blood puddles obliterated most of the edges, there was only the slightest hint that it was there in the first place. Wynne told him that it was blood magic that held her, magic that was no longer present due to the death of the pride demon. A fear gripped him then, sudden, that the prone form on the ground was no longer living.

A relieved sigh from Wynne indicated that she was, just barely. She had a pulse, and she yet breathed.

They made a stretcher and took her back to Denerim, Alistair allowing Fleur to lead. The Brecillian Forest proved no challenge or maze to the dog, and they made it back in three days. He housed them in Arl Eamon's estate. The Gnawed Noble simply did not have enough room, and there were guards here and some servants that still remembered him.

He had been sleeping in this chair for ten days. Wynne locked him out sometime every night, attended to Ellyn with water and rejuvenation spells, but even she could not keep him from staying the night in his chair. He read to her, spoke to her, sometimes he cried when it was very late and no one else was awake. How was he supposed to do this alone? Things seemed impossible enough with her, let alone without.

He always stopped himself, of course, not wanting her to wake to his tears. Meanwhile, he wrote letters to Orzammar to seek help with the Blight, sent word to Redcliffe of their arrival, sent servants to stock up on supplies for the long trip to Orzammar, as they would eventually have to travel there. He was running out of things to do. At least, he was running out of things he could have done without leaving her side.

Another two days, maybe, and he would have to leave her here with the servants. They would surely take care of her as well – or better – as he had, but that wasn't the point. He simply felt lost without her.

Two more nights. Alistair sat by her bed and held her hand until sleep claimed him. "You must be the templar with the rippling muscles." A voice jolted him awake, and for a moment he thought it might be Zevran, only without that smarmy Antivan accent.

"Wha...?" Alistair forced his eyes open. The servants already came in earlier and put out all the candles. As he watched, they flared alight again. There was a Tevinter mage in the room. He tensed. He could drain him, but the mage had made no threatening moves.

"Sorry. I hate the dark. Try not to drain me, okay?" The Tevinter mage had a staff in his hand, which he slowly lowered to the floor. "Not that I'm completely defenceless without it or anything, but you can at least see that I'm unarmed."

Alistair did not have his armour on. Actually, he had no shirt on. He was planning on getting dressed before bed – chair – but after trudging through the forest there and back, wearing heavy plate through the night for fear of Dalish arrows, he was happy to sit around in loose trousers for a while. He eyed his sword and shield that sat in a niche across the room. Too far.

"Don't bother. If I wanted you dead, you're dead. I could have zapped you from the door thrice over." The mage shrugged. "I'm just saying. By the way, I'm Anders. At your service."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place? I'm Alistair." Relieved, Alistair relaxed in the chair and allowed his shoulders to drop. "I was under the impression that we have guards."

"To answer your first question, I had no idea if my name might mean anything to you. As for the second, I told the guards at the gates that I'm a healer and they didn't ask for whom. You really should tighten up your security. If somebody wanted you dead, well ..." Anders smiled in his guileless way that made Alistair want to jump up and strangle the man. "There are wanted posters all over the place, you are known, and people talk. Every mercenary in the city knows the wardens are here."

"Okay, I get it. Tighten up security if I don't want us getting killed. What are you doing here at this time of night?" Alistair rubbed the grit fromhis eyes. Ten days of sleeping in a chair and he got woken up in the middle of the night by Ellyn's brother, of all people, who happened to be extremely talkative.

Anders looked around for a chair, but none were movable, so he settled on the bed next to Ellyn, opposite Alistair. "She needs me, so I'm here. Funny how that works."

"She's been in a coma for nearly two weeks. I'm about to suggest to Wynne that we go find Andraste's ashes. Again."

"She's done this before - for an entire month." Anders moved Ellyn to settle her head on his stomach, stroking her hair almost absentmindedly, as he had done so many times before. "Other kids rant and rave when they throw tantrums. Ellyn hides in the Fade."

Alistair watched them and felt a little jealous at his show of intimacy. Looking at Ellyn wasn't helping. Even unconscious, she seemed to settle in his arms. "Mages can do that?"

"No. Ellyn can do that. She's only done this once before. It was my third escape attempt and the templars roughed me up on the way back, then the Knight Commander locked me in solitary. She threw a fit at Irving, and when he refused to let me out, she just didn't wake up the next day." He smiled a little at the memory; Ellyn could be so stubborn when she wanted to be. "After a month, they dragged me out of the cellars and sent me into the Fade to get her. If it was any other mage, they'd have just let her die, but Ellyn's too much of an investment, apparently."

Alistair grounded the heels of his hands on his temples, then rubbed his eyes. "So she's just dreaming? She can wake up any time she wants to?"

"No. She created an illusion and she trapped herself in it. She is basically her own sloth demon. Don't look at her like that – she's not a monster." Anders reached across and stopped short of smacking Alistair on the head. Then he looked at his hand as if he didn't know how it got there. "Uh, sorry about that. I get twitchy when it comes to Ellyn. Speaking of which ... what did you do to her?"

"I'm sorry?" Now Alistair was just confused. His templar senses could feel the magic just pouring off Anders, even though he had made no move at all.

"You're sitting next to my sister while she's in a coma, you're half naked, and something jolted her so badly she locked herself in the Fade." Anders smiled with his mouth but not his eyes. He raised one hand, sparks of electricity danced on it, making the occasional pop that was close enough to singe his eyebrows. "I can zap you quicker than you can drain me at this range. So, templar. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Alistair squeaked. He proceeded to explain her capture by Dalish elves, and of the massacre that took place in the camp. Alistair winced a little at the last; he really didn't mean for that to happen. He just did not think things through before agreeing with the Lady of the Forest, but even in hindsight he could not see things ending up any other way. Sometimes there was simply no happy ending that one could strive for.

Anders sat and digested the tale, some of which were unbelievable even by magi standards, but he was used to 'weird' especially where Ellyn was concerned. "Well, Alistair." For a moment, Anders appeared to be examining his nails. "Let me tell you some things about Ellyn. The most blood she ever saw in the tower before the incident – don't ask - was skinned knees, and even that she only waited to heal because she wanted attention. I come here thinking that this," he stroked her cheek with affection, frowning at the slight hollows in her cheeks and darkness under her eyes, "is just another tantrum. But now I think it's looking more like an escape."

"She was trapped in a blood mage's circle when we found her. Was she trying to escape from that?"

"No. She's not stupid enough to think that she can break out of something like that. She 's probably just trying to get away from all the killing. Tell me something, Alistair." He could feel the anger flaring again, and kept it down. First things first. "How did she end up walking in there alone, if you care about her so much?"

"She refused my help." Alistair stated, straightforwardly. She led. He followed. He respected her decisions. Simple as that.

"If a six year old girl who can't swim wants to jump into the lake by herself, do you let her?" Anders fought the urge to yell. Hadn't this man been near any children? "She has no sense of self preservation because she's never needed it. You can't let her make decisions for herself."

"You think I don't regret letting her go alone? I've been by her bedside the whole time." The headache was getting worse. Anders studied him for a moment and laid a hand on his shoulder. Healing energy coursed through him and Alistair felt a whole week and a half worth of stress leave his back. "Oh. Thank you."

Much as he hated templars, Anders couldn't bring himself to hate this man. Not malicious. Just stupid. Being mean to him would be like kicking a puppy. "I'm not sure how far away I'll be next time she does this. Don't let there be a next time."

Alistair sat up in his chair, having given up sleep for now. "Uh ... how exactly do you go about preventing something like this?"

"Don't leave her alone. That's how." Anders had no real answer aside from blame. He sighed, "now excuse me while I probably have things thrown at me in the Fade."

2

There were no windows in the circle tower. No breeze, no sunlight. Hallways curved so that it was difficult to see ahead, and it was always a surprise whom you ran into at the next corner. At least, for Anders it was that way. Anders knew everyone. At the very least, everyone knew of him.

She was always a little envious. People did not talk to her at all. When she tried to meet their eyes they looked down and away, even when she was only a small child. She heard whispers behind her as she passed. Ser Clara only told her that it was because she was special.

Ellyn didn't want to be special. It was hard to know what you wanted, however, when everything you know came from three people and books. Ellyn was used to time alone with books. Tactics. History. Irving only had so much time to spend with her, so a lot of her daily hours were spent poring over old maps and reading history books on the rebellion.

When she wasn't doing very dry reading, she spent it in meditation. Spirit healers needed control. For one as young as she was, the first few years in the tower she was practically leaking magic. Fortunately, her flares were limited to healing spells. Even so, she spent a lot of time repeating the names of the demons in order to prevent falling to them.

Rage. Hunger. Sloth. Desire. Pride.

She wondered if there was a demon named despair. If there was, well, she would have given herself up to it by now. It was a strong emotion, wasn't it? Wouldn't be very useful, or deadly, she supposed.

"You're the most talented healer we've ever had." Ser Clara used to say, while giving her the kindest of smiles Ellyn ever saw from a templar. That wasn't really true, was it? She was kept away from everyone because she was an uncontrollable abomination. She was 'special' but in what way? There was no war; she wasn't needed. Once she knew battle, she hated it. What use was she to the Dalish?

They were Mythal's People. They were her People. She allowed them to be slaughtered around her and she could do nothing but watch amidst their screams.

Familiar footsteps derailed her thoughts. "Go away, Anders."

"You don't mean that." He pushed open the curtain to her chambers and ducked inside. It was her room before the incident. The walls had doodles on them. After they cleaned the walls, they took the paint down along with the blood.

She picked up a brush off her bedside table and threw it at his head, missing him by at least a foot. "Go away. I want to be alone."

He ignored her protests and projectiles, taking wide strides to her bed where she lain amidst a mountain of cushions. When she kicked and pushed him, he wrestled her until she gave in and sobbed against his chest. "Alistair told me what happened." He settled his back into her cushions.

"If you know, why are you here? They're better off without me. They should just leave me." Ellyn clung to his neck and settled her cheek against his collarbone.

"To what?" He knew the answer, but this wasn't a conversation. It was a dance.

She said nothing, only shook her head in denial. She was dangerous. She only caused trouble. She deserved to be alone and locked away. Everything would be better if Duncan left her in the tower.

"If shame is what you feel, you need to own up to it. You can't just lock yourself away."

"Yeah, well, you can run away. I can't. There's only one way out."

"I can think of much better dreams to die in." He looked around her paint covered walls, spartan stone floors, but the overabundance of cushions was rather nice. That was not in the tower.

"I can only build what I know, Anders."

"So, live a little. Build better dreams. You can't learn anything from in here."

She shifted and laid her head on his stomach, letting the familiarity of Anders wash over her like a blanket. "I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Live with myself." She had an arm over her eyes, and Anders looked down to see that she was still crying.

"Silly girl." He tickled her under the chin, frowned a little when she batted him away without a sliver of a smile. He moved to stroke her hair instead and waited for the tears to stop. "I didn't raise you for twelve years for you to mope yourself to death."

Anders pulled a red rose out of the space behind her right ear. She reached out a hand and stopped short of touching it. "...I don't deserve beautiful things."

"Neither do I. But that doesn't stop me from taking them." He pressed the rose into her hand. It withered and curled as soon as she touched it, bled red that ran down her fingers, and turned into ashes. He raised an eyebrow along with a sad smile. "It's things like that that reminds me I'm in the Fade."

"It's how I feel." She blew on the ashes. Tendrils of ashes and smoke made a new rose for a second in the air and was gone.

"My little drama queen. Are you intending on leaving your poor brother all alone?"

"You're never alone. You never needed me."

"Nonsense."

"It's true."

"The world needs you. Isn't that enough? Alistair's been sitting by your bedside for nearly a fortnight. I don't think he can do this without you. Besides," he tipped her chin, so she would actually be looking at him. "No one really needs me either. Everyone is alone, in the end."

"Alistair can do without me. I just mess things up anyway."

"That's not true. From what he told me, it sounds like he messed everything up when you left him. Why did you do that, anyway?"

She bit her lower lip. "I don't know. The hunters asked me to come alone, so I did."

"You wanted to keep him safe."

"No. I can take care of myself."

"No you can't. Don't deny it. You just proved you can't."

"Then why did you leave me alone all the time?"

"I did not leave you 'alone.' I left you with Ser Clara. Besides, I always came home to you, didn't I?"

"There isn't a home any more. This is all there is. Look! We're home! Happy?" She gestured at the ever so slightly shimmering stone walls surrounding them, spreading her arms wide.

"Have you been drinking?"

"I wish I was."

"Drinking isn't going to help, you know. Living might."

"Who are you, Wynne?" She was not used to Anders spouting off platitudes. "Mythal warned me with her stories but I didn't listen, and that mistake cost an entire tribe of elves their lives."

"You can't be right all the time. Or most of the time. Or at all. If you worry about making mistakes, you'll never do anything. If I sat in the tower thinking about all the different ways I'm going to get caught, I'd never have gotten out in the first place."

"Like I am now?"

"Yup. You can sit here, and the world will crumble around you. If you don't do anything, there won't be ANY Dalish left. Or dwarves, or humans. If you don't wake up," he smirked, playing the blackmail card, "I might as well stay here, and the Blight will last a hundred years."

"That's not fair." Ellyn wrinkled her nose and pouted just a little.

"Life isn't fair."

"Those children shouldn't have died."

"It wasn't you who killed them. Zathrian made a deal with a pride demon. You and I both know where that leads." Anders sighed and gathered her up to hug her, setting his chin on the top of her head. "We all make choices, and they can't be all the right choices, and Maker am I one to talk for not thinking things through. You're sweet enough to make your choices with good intentions, and that's good enough. Make your decisions and don't look back."

He pulled another rose out of the air, a cream white one with just the barest hint of pink. She made no move to take it. "I still don't deserve it."

"Take it anyway." She did, and this time it remained in her hand whole, its petals flaring slightly at her touch.

3

Anders woke first, he kept his focus on her face, watching the little tell-tale tic at the corners of her eyes. When she woke, she smiled contentedly at him and he stroked her cheek. He smiled back. "Hey there, sleeping beauty."

She mumbled 'good morning' in a barely audible scratch of a voice, tried to stretch, but there just wasn't enough strength in her limbs. He began casting a rejuvenation spell.

"I'm ... uh ... just going to go get some ... tea. Yeah. And food. You're probably famished." Alistair rushed out of the room in a flash, not checking whether they heard him or not. He felt as though he saw something he shouldn't have. Something intimate. Well, they were in bed, but not that way, and they had a sibling relationship even if they were not related, so why did it feel like he was in a room with a pair of newlyweds on a honeymoon morning?

Personal boundaries was apparently not as prominent a concept to Circle mages as it was to the rest of the populace, if they were to be judged by those two.

"Rather awkward, isn't he? Totally your type." Anders tipped his head toward the door at the retreating figure of Alistair. "Does he stammer too?"

"Sometimes." The voice was a little better. Healed and just a little scratchy from disuse.

Anders was expecting outright denial. When he didn't get it, he found himself tensing up again. Old habits die hard. "What is with you and virginal templars?"

"I like men who play hard to get." She stuck out her tongue at him, "impossible is even better."

He made a face, deepening the crease in between his eyebrows, but his eyes stayed playful. Anders definitely did not play hard to get. "Hey, being easy is part of my charm! So? do you like this one?"

"I don't know." Ellyn pouted noncommittally. Alistair was certainly handsome and funny. She was attracted to him, but he was more of a friend than anything else. "Honest. I have no idea."

"Well, he is completely smitten with you." Ellyn's eyes went wide and let out a little gasp. "You. Are. So. Dense." He flicked the spot between her eyes with one finger, "that man has dark circles under his eyes from taking care of you this whole time."

"He says he cares for me," Ellyn gathered enough strength to sit up. The room spun a little, and she put out a hand to steady herself, Anders took it. "He has been nothing but considerate and sweet. But ..."

"But he's not impossible. You don't fool me," Anders pointed at the space where her heart was, "you have to let someone in here."

"You're in there."

"There's room for more than one, you know. Or two or Five. I've lost count, personally." that brought a string of giggles out of Ellyn. Anders was a bit infamous that way. "You can't stay a maid forever."

"The desire demons had enough fodder from the little I had with Cullen."

"You're a mage. Get used to it." He held her shoulders so she could not look away, "you're free of the Circle, Ellyn. Not many of us get that chance – don't waste your life because of stupid demons."

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Ellyn pouted, her eyes downcast. She fingered the sleeves of her long tunic nervously, hating the moment she had to see his retreating back again.

"I took a great risk coming to Denerim. Too many templars. You might want to check out the alienage if you can, by the way. There's something going on in there. Lots of Tevinters." He swung his legs off the bed and gave Ellyn a little pat on the head. "The guards are keeping the elves inside, but when I walked out of the gate he didn't try to stop me. Not that I'm complaining – it makes it easier for me to sneak back out."

Ellyn said nothing as she watched him close the door behind him. It was Anders, after all. He would always come back to her, eventually.

Alistair walked down the hall with a tray full of food and tea to find Anders leaning on the wall just outside Ellyn's door. "Will you be staying with us, then?"

"What gave you that idea?" Anders had a laugh at that as his hand came up to smooth out his hair. "No. I'm supposed to be in a coma. Needless to say, I am not travelling in an 'official' capacity, and I," he gave Alistair a pointed look, "am a runner. Don't tell Wynne I was here."

"It's just that Ellyn has a way of collecting people. We picked up an Antivan Crow last week, and he was trying to kill her." Alistair couldn't help but groan a little at the recollection of how she simply gave him another one of her 'can we keep him' looks.

"She does not 'collect.' She 'adopts.'" Anders winced, but could not stop his grin. "Though I understand perfectly. I heard that Antivan men are awfully charming."

"Don't remind me." The mention of Zevran's charm brought a shadow over his face, one that Anders promptly noted.

"If you don't watch it, he'll steal Ellyn from right under your nose."

Alistair sighed. Why did everyone had to tell him that?

"Drop the subtlety, templar. Cullen waited three years for a kiss. Here's to hoping you're a little less patient than that. Good luck. You'll need it." Anders slapped him on the shoulder, gave him one last wink and snickered at him before he slipped off into the night.

Ellyn was dozing again on the pillows when Alistair came in with his tray of food. Over the past ten days, he had plenty of time to watch her, as he observed how she weakened and paled day by day. There was colour back in her cheeks now. Alistair felt a smile creep across his face. All those days of nursing her weren't in vain after all.

He set down the tray on a side table and sat down, reached out a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes. His hand brushed her cheek, and he let it linger, glad to feel the heat on her face, as checking on her had become a habit. Ellyn leaned into his hand sleepily before blinking her eyes open, and when she saw that it was him, she flinched just a little, but did not pull away.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Alistair," she said, and gave him a tiny hint of a smile that wrinkled the corners of her eyes.

Drop the subtlety. Sod what her brother said. Ellyn was not the kind of girl who would fall for mere charms, was she? Alistair would much rather go with sincerity. He touched his forehead to hers, "you are very welcome," then he pulled her into his arms for a hug. Hugs were friendly. Hugs weren't about to scare her away. "I'm sorry that I made a mess of your rescue. Things did not exactly go according to plan."

Alistair turned to sit on the bed and he slipped an arm behind her shoulders, pulling her to rest on his own. "It wasn't your fault." Ellyn was the one who agreed to go alone and fell for the trick of a pride demon. It was done. There was more work to do. I cannot look back. I will be paralysed if I look back. She wondered when the grief would eventually catch up to her. Then, because curiosity got the better of her, "what was the plan?"

"Follow the dog and let the Lady do the talking." She laughed, and it was wholehearted and infectious. "What? That's what I always do, except I follow you and you do all the talking."

"So I guess Fleur's been getting extra meat bones?"

"She's been getting entire hunks of meat with bones. You're going to have a fat dog. Now we just have to work on you." He pulled the tray off the side table and laid it on her lap. "Eat up. I'll fill you in on everything you've missed."

While she wolfed the food down – and she never even thought she was hungry until after the first bite, then she realized was famished – Alistair related the recent events. They could no longer get help from the Dalish, but the Lady and her Werewolves decided to ally with the Grey Wardens. He watched her reaction closely, but aside from a slight knotting of her brows, she did not seem overly distressed.

"One more thing." He reached over and opened the bedside table, returning with a small sealed vial of something red in his palm. "The Lady asked me to give you this. She said something cryptic like 'it will be of use to her.'"

The vial was made of crystal and felt icy cold to the touch. Probably what a phylactery might look like, she thought. She watched the red liquid flow from one end of the vial to another as she turned it. On an impulse, she laid it across one palm and allowed her natural healing aura to spread and engulf it.

Memories came quick as a flash flood, drowning out all other sensations. She stood in the middle of a temple, elves dressed in green iridescent armour hidden behind banisters and large stone pillars; human mages rushed through the gates and there was a great battle. She saw the armoured elven warriors cast spells of fire and ice, and suddenly she realized how the veil in the Brecillian Forest became so badly torn. The sound of magic hummed around her, became a roar in her ears, flashes of bright light turned to pinpoints unto darkness.

When she came to, Alistair was in front of her with his hands on her shoulders, his face full of concern. "Wow," was all she said when she finally found her voice again.

Alistair gave out a long sigh when she finally spoke, and only then knew that he was holding his breath. "What happened? I sensed magic, but I thought you might have passed out."

"This is a trapped spirit. It gave me the knowledge of an arcane warrior." She closed her palms and concentrated entropy magic into the vial. When she opened it again, the liquid inside was black, the spirit released.

"You know, I've been missing your deadpan reaction to weird." Alistair slid back into place next to her, "the whole time we were planning your rescue, I kept thinking about what you'd do, if you were in my place. There was a talking tree and a mad hermit. No joke. I must have gawked at the Lady like an idiot."

She pictured Alistair's face when he saw a talking tree, and subsequently giggled.

"Morrigan thought it was awfully funny that I let Fleur lead us."

"What, that wasn't a joke?"

"Nope, and I just managed to make myself look even less heroic." He gave her shoulder a little squeeze, then tipped his head down to meet her eyes. "I'm hopeless without you."

Ellyn felt a tingle on her scalp as blood rushed to her cheeks. She wondered what this feeling was. Alistair was so close she could feel his breath on her face, smelling of mint and honey – when he prepared tea for her, he must have had some. He touched her cheek and stroked a line across the space under her eye with his thumb; her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted imperceptibly. Suddenly, she felt her face being pulled downwards an inch, a kiss placed on her forehead, and he pulled his arm behind her away.

Alistair sat on the edge of the bed, away from her, hands clasped behind his head. "You must be, um, tired. I'll just be in the next room over. Shout if you need anything." He got up without turning around and within seconds, he was gone, disappeared into the adjoining room, leaving a very bemused Ellyn behind.