Forged In Fire

by Lady Urquentha

Elissa Cousland teased Loghain for being ridiculously sentimental when he gave her a diamond ring engraved with the words 'You Brought Me Back to Life'. Now, four months later, he is trying to kill her and she is raising an army against him.

15. A Touch

Title: Forged In Fire

Rating: M (for violence and language)

Warnings: none

Summary: Elissa Cousland teased Loghain for being ridiculously sentimental when he gave her a diamond ring engraved with the words 'You Brought Me Back to Life'. Now, four months later, he is trying to kill her and she is raising an army against him.

Disclaimer + Notes: Bioware owns everything you recognise. Everything you don't (including the poetry) is mine. Thanks ever so much to my beta-readers lilpumpkingirl and analect for their help with spelling, style, ideas and all manner of things. They have been life savers! As always, any remaining errors are mine. Thoughts, comments and opinions (negative, positive and anything in between) are always welcome, and I do respond to each review individually.

Response to Anonymous (Stella)'s Review: I wouldn't either, in her position. But Elissa has been brought up somewhat differently. While she doesn't like Duncan, I don't think she really thought he had sinister intentions. Besides which, it would spoil the point of the fic if she did take the out, no?

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Chapter 15 – A Touch

Thud. Thud.

Shake. Shake.

The ground trembles as they pass,

A thousand thousand fold of men,

Watching, and waiting,

For their turn to die.

Thud. Thud.

Shake. Sha-

∞ 'The Stories of War' by Aileen DeMimen, p136

The camp bed beneath her was hard and not particularly comfortable, but a cool contrast to the heated body lying on top of her. She could dimly hear the pounding of the rain against the canvas tent, but cared far more about the thud of his heart and the slide of his hands across her bare back. Sweat coated both their skins, and the smell of sex already lingered in the air. Their tongues duelled, filling her mouth with his familiar, unique taste.

She pulled away to gasp for breath. "I love you."

A slow smile touched the corners of his lips and he shifted, his leg trapping hers to the bed. She wrapped one hand in the dark hair and the other around his shoulders, tugging him closer. A sudden, bright burst of pain exploded in her stomach. She gasped, flinching away. He let her go. She looked down, and saw the jewelled hilt of a dagger emerging from her abdomen. A thick black liquid tinged with red was slowly seeping from the wound, staining her skin like ashes and wine. She stared down at it.

Finding it hard to breathe, she raised disbelieving eyes to meet the blue eyes of her lover.

"Just relax." His hand stroked her cheek softly. "It will all be over soon."

With a quick movement that made her scream, he jerked the blade from her body. A river of black-red blood gushed out, spilling onto the white sheets around her.

Elissa could feel her strength draining away as her head started to spin. Desperately, she pressed her fingers against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come to her.

He leaned down and kissed her sweetly, gently, as though he had all the time in the world, and then pulled her fingers away from her midriff, allowing her blood to flow freely.

She grasped weakly at his shoulders. "Loghain…"

He pushed her back down, shaking his head slowly. "Just let go, Elissa. Don't fight it."

Already dizzy from blood loss, Elissa barely had the strength to panic as her vision started to go black. Her heartbeat was thundering in her ears, and she knew every pulse was bringing her closer to death. Then everything faded, and she was falling into an abyss.

Elissa woke suddenly. Her hands went instinctively to her abdomen, but there was no wound, no blood, corrupted or otherwise, and she was alone in her tent, save for the heavy warmth of Duke draped along her side and her chest. Her heart slowed in its race as she took deep breaths, listening to Alistair's snores echoing through the camp and overlaying the crackle of the outside fire that cast shadows on the tent walls.

It was no surprise she'd dreamed of that, she supposed. Between Duke's weight on her chest and the revelations Zevran had brought the day before, she should have expected it.

In his sleep, the hound growled softly, and his ears twitched. She wrapped her arms around him, soothing him back into a deeper sleep. She was safe here, surrounded by her companions. She closed her own eyes, hoping she wouldn't dream of Loghain.

A lightly tanned man stood at the edge of a cliff, staring out across the raging sea. Relentless white waves rose into the air and smashed their fury upon the immoveable rocks below. Above, the black clouds swirled angrily, a single solid covering from horizon to horizon. The man's blue eyes were equally volatile, and his fists were clenched by his side. Full lips were pressed together in a thin line, and he swallowed convulsively.

A voice was raised to be heard over the shrieking sounds of the storm. "Brother."

Another man approached, wrapped in a heavy cloak but with the hood tossed back. They both had the same high cheekbones, but this one had long red hair instead of the storm-watcher's black hair.

"What is it?" The first man's voice was emotionless, despite the quivering tension that was making his entire body tremble.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? She would not want you to mourn-" the other began.

The dark-haired man whirled, his grey robes flapping around his legs. "And why should I not? You don't know what you're talking about, brother. You've never lost anyone!"

The new arrival's face tightened, but he took a deep breath. "Because your daughter needs you."

"My…daughter?"

In response, the second man threw back his cloak to reveal a tiny wrapped bundle in his arms, huddling against his body in search of protection against the cold wind. "We managed to save her."

"Little one," the first man breathed, reaching out for the bundle.

His brother pulled away. "No. Not till you let that go." He nodded first at the storm raging behind them, and then at the lightning sparking along the other's skin.

Scowling, the raven-haired man closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and let it out. Slowly, the harsh lines on his face softened. The pounding rain slowed, and then stopped. The lightning faded away, and he opened his eyes again. Above them, the clouds still loomed in the sky, and the waves below had not completely calmed. But it was enough, and he reached for his daughter.

There was a clanging in her ears, like the sound of dwarven war gongs. Abruptly, the scene vanished. Elissa found herself in a ghostly body, hovering above the same deep trench that she'd already seen in her dreams. It was just as hot as she remembered and it felt like the wind was ripping the skin off her face. The filth had spread, the purple stain looking remarkably similar to the slime from the Circle Tower, and now it crept up the walls of the trench. The Archdemon was perched on a ledge, its bat-like wings spread for balance as it shrieked its ear-deafening cry. Every time it breathed fire, the light lit up the trench, revealing rows of seemingly endless armour-clad darkspawn.

The Archdemon's menacing mental presence pressed against her mind, an overwhelming weight that threatened to nearly crush her. It was like the feeling she'd had in the tower for the split second before Uldred had overwhelmed her system with pain.

There was a roar, a response from the gathered darkspawn that sent chills down Elissa's spine. The dragon half-reared, its wings flapping, and then crashed down again. Dust billowed from the ground where it landed. It hissed, its long forked tongue flickering, tasting the air.

"…find…victory…"

Electricity sprayed from its mouth as it roared. There was a piercing scream as a genlock died, roasted by its own master. The other darkspawn didn't react to the death, eyes riveted to the hissing dragon.

"…life…"

The muscles in the powerful hind legs rippled and then the beast was airborne. In the immense cavern, it could not go very high, but as its shadow swept over her, Elissa shuddered. A crawling sensation crept up her spine.

A scream echoed through the cavern, reverberating off the walls. "Mine!"

Elissa shot up in her bedroll, her heart pounding. The first dawn light was streaming in through the canvas, and outside the birds were greeting the dawn. Duke, woken from his sleep by her movement, licked her hand affectionately. Shakily, she stroked his head.

She flopped back down, wincing as her back connected with the hard ground. Two more dreams. One, clearly the product of her overly tired subconscious, and the other… the Archdemon. That was the third time this week alone. But it was the first time, since that very first dream, where she'd understood the dragon. She'd hoped it was a fluke, but it seemed not. In fact, she'd understood more this time than before. And Wardens weren't supposed to understand the Archdemon at all, unless they were near their 'Calling' as Alistair had called it. Had something gone wrong with the damned ritual Duncan had put her through? Was she dying faster than the Wardens normally did? She swallowed. Or was there something different about her, something that made her understand the creature?

Resolutely she pushed the thoughts aside. If she was dying early, there was nothing they could do about it. Not when none of them actually knew what the Joining was. Wynne had known the magical component and that was it, so she wouldn't be any help either. And until she could understand the Archdemon enough to actually comprehend what it was saying properly, it didn't make any difference.

Right. Enough of this.

Elissa pushed herself up onto her feet, and struggled into her clothes. Duke waited patiently at her side, and then followed her out into the cool morning air.

Alistair looked up from the campfire, where he was on the last guard shift. He eyed her warily. "Good morning."

She'd gone nearly straight to bed after getting back with Leliana, and she supposed she shouldn't be surprised if all of her companions tiptoed around her today. "Morning. No signs of anything?" She glanced at Zevran's tent.

He shook his head. "Not even a peep. Or from the darkspawn."

Elissa sat down next to the fire, and poured herself a cup of boiling water, into which she tipped the herbs for her morning tea. She glanced at the other tents, seeing no sign of movement. It was barely dawn, and although her companions would start waking soon, it was a little early, she supposed. Still, they'd need to get moving soon if they wanted to arrive in Redcliffe later that day.

"Elissa…Lady…"

"Yes?" She knew her surprise showed in her voice. He hadn't used her title in weeks, since those first few days after their escape from Ostagar.

Alistair's neck was flushed red, and he didn't meet her eyes. "I…uh…wanted to apologise."

Elissa could feel her own face turning red. Ah. Leliana had spoken to him then. "It's all righ-"

"I didn't know," Alistair rushed on. "I-I wouldn't hav-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's not your fault." Elissa looked down. "And you didn't make me uncomfortable, exactly. It's just-"

"You don't need to explain," he said hastily.

There were several moments of silence, as neither of them dared look at the either. Then Alistair broke the silence. "Elissa?"

"Hm?" She could still feel the warmth in her cheeks.

"You were King Cailan's friend," he began.

Elissa took a deep breath. "Yes."

"What…was he like? If you don't mind…"

She gave him a startled look. Of course, he would never have met his half-brother. And the curiosity was only natural. In hindsight, she was surprised he'd lasted this long without asking. "I can talk about it," she said quietly. As long as she focused on the good memories, anyway. She leaned back on her hands and smiled. "Cailan was…bright and happy, I suppose. Always bubbly. Quick to laugh and smile. He was my best friend." She laughed. "He tried to teach me to fence when I was eight. It didn't work very well, but he did try. And it convinced my father to allow his knights to train me. And he loved practical jokes. He hid all my clothes when I was twelve, and I was forced to wear the few dresses he left me for the rest of the day. I wanted to kill him." Maric had been furious with Cailan, and she still remembered the profuse apologies the king had made to Bryce and the forced 'apology' from Cailan that lost its effect when he was grinning the whole way through. "It took the servants nearly six hours to find them all again. They weren't very happy about it, of course, but it didn't take him long to charm his way back into their good graces." And their beds. Her smile faded slightly.

"He sounds perfect." The words were bland.

Elissa glanced at him, suddenly aware of what her words had sounded like. Alistair would have spent his life being told he wasn't good enough to be Cailan's brother, and now… "No. He wasn't perfect." She eyed him carefully. She could, test the waters, so to speak. "Cailan didn't like the responsibilities of ruling, so he…ignored them."

Alistair's eyes widened. "But Ferelden has prospered in the past few years."

"Queen Anora is a very competent administrator. She has effectively ruled since her marriage to Cailan." Elissa shook her head. "Cailan was obsessed with stories about the old heroes. I think he would have been happier as a Warden than a king." She watched him carefully.

If she hadn't been watching so closely, she wouldn't have caught the shiver. He opened his mouth to respond, and then froze as one of the tents rustled.

Leliana's head poked out, as she covered a yawn with her hand. "Morning, all. What's for breakfast?"

Elissa could have cheerfully killed her.

Elissa stood at the top of the hill, looking down and out over the valley below. The smudge of grey stone that she knew was Redcliffe Castle was nestled at the far end, just beside the lake, and was surrounded by the spider-web of houses and farms. A stream rushed past them on the right, churning and twisting over the rocks as it made its way towards the harbour. Distantly, she could hear the crash of the water plunging over a waterfall.

"Have you recovered from your lapse in sanity?" Morrigan's voice asked.

Elissa gave the witch a surprised look. "I apologised for what I said to you yesterday." She paused. "You did hear me, right?"

"Yes, I heard you." Morrigan waved it off. "I meant your bout of hysterics last night." Her lip curled.

"My hyst-" Ah. She meant the running off on her own. "Yes."

"Good. I was starting to wonder if I had been mistaken about you." Morrigan sniffed.

Elissa sighed. "Morrigan."

A throat cleared itself nearby, and Elissa turned to look at Alistair.

His eyes were fixed on the castle, and then moved back to her. "Look, can I talk to you for a moment? In private." He glared at Morrigan.

"Morrigan, could you give us a moment?"

The mage rolled her eyes. "There is nothing he should be saying to you that he can't say to the rest of us." She sighed at Elissa's glare. "Oh very well."

Elissa waited for her to move out of range, and then turned. "What's on your mind?"

"There's something I need to tell you that I, ah, should probably have told you a long time ago." He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

Elissa held her breath. Was he finally going to admit who he was?

"I told you before about how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle, and he took me in." He ducked his head, and took a deep breath. "The reason he did that was because, well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan…my half-brother I suppose."

She eyed his apprehensive expression, and then said gently, "I know."

His eyes shot up to hers. "You…know?" he croaked.

"Cailan was my best friend, and I spent quite a bit of time with King Maric." She smiled. "You look a lot like your father."

Alistair looked like he'd had the air knocked out of him. "You knew…the whole time?"

"Not the whole time. I didn't work it out till after my Joining."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "You never mentioned it. I assumed you had a reason for not wanting me to know."

"I would have told you, but..." Alistair looked away. "I'm used to not saying anything about it. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret. And…everyone who knew either resented me for it, or they coddled me…even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I guess I didn't want you to know, for as long as possible. It's just that anyone who's ever found out treated me differently afterwards, as the bastard prince instead of just Alistair. I'm sorry."

"I understand." She had guessed it would be something like that. But…did he realise he was in line to the throne? It was obvious, and yet, he seemed oblivious to the fact that Cailan was dead and he was next in line.

His smile was relieved. "Good. I'm glad."

She eyed him. Time to take the plunge. "You do realise, though, that you are the heir to the throne?"

He gaped at her. "Maker's breath, I hope not! I don't think so…you don't think so, do you? I'm a bastard and no-one even knows about me."

"You are Cailan's closest blood relative," she said gently.

He shook his head vigorously. "I'm the son of a commoner. It was always made clear that the throne is not in my future. I'm okay with that." He brightened. "No, if there is an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood but he's Cailan's uncle, and more importantly, very popular with the people."

Elissa refrained from snorting. Popular with the people? Perhaps with the people of his own Arling. Most of Ferelden's population didn't care about any Arl other than their own, and the nobles were not particularly fond of Eamon. He was respected as the King's uncle and one of his advisors, but he wasn't the all-powerful being that Alistair seemed to think. He did have the largest standing army, now that Cailan had died with his half of the army, so it had been a logical decision to come to him, but for his military strength rather than his political pull. On the other hand, now that the Couslands and the royal family were gone, perhaps Eamon was the only one with the political power to challenge Loghain. It was why they were headed in his direction after all.

Alistair's face fell. "Though…if he's really as sick as we've heard…no, I don't want to think about that." He shuddered. "I really don't."

"So, the Chantry boy is actually a bastard prince," Morrigan drawled.

Elissa's head jerked up, to see Morrigan standing only a short distance away with a smirk. Elissa cursed inwardly. She hadn't even noticed the witch's approach. Thankfully, the others were all out of earshot, although Morrigan would probably spread the news just to embarrass Alistair.

"It was a private conversation," Alistair snapped.

"Hardly private here." Morrigan glanced around at the open space pointedly. "And in any case, is not your identity something we all should know? As it is as likely to get us all in trouble as all your Grey Wardening."

Alistair spluttered.

Elissa looked around desperately, and then met Leliana's eyes. She glanced at Morrigan, and then back at Leliana.

The minstrel shook her head and then loudly cleared her throat. "You are very beautiful Morrigan."

Elissa nearly choked. Had Leliana misinterpreted her silent begging?

The witch sniffed. "Tell me something I do not know."

"But you are always dressed in such rags." Leliana tilted her head. "It suits you I suppose…a little tear here, a little rip there to show some skin. I understand."

Elissa muffled a laugh. She could see where this was going. Oh, Leliana…

Morrigan turned her nose up. "You understand I lived in a forest, I hope."

"Maybe we could get you in a nice dress one day." Leliana clapped her hands. "Silk…no, maybe velvet. Velvet is heavier, better to guard against the cold in Ferelden."

Elissa could vouch for that. All her winter dresses were velvets, brocade and heavy satin. Only in heated castles and houses could she wear silks. Fires were kept burning in the rooms throughout winter so the castle could be warm enough. Even in summer, the weather was mild enough to keep her in thicker materials when outside.

"Dark red velvet, yes, with gold embroidery…" Leliana mused. "It should be cut low in the front of course. We don't want to hide your features."

Morrigan crossed her arms across her chest. "Stop looking at my breasts like that. 'Tis most disturbing."

"You don't think so?" Leliana pouted for a moment. "And if it's cut low in the front, we must put your hair up, show off that lovely neck…"

The mage backed away. "You are insane. I saw what you did to Elissa's hair! I would sooner let Alistair dress me!"

"Hey!" he objected.

Elissa lost the battle to withhold her snort.

"Elissa's hair looks wonderful." Leliana followed Morrigan's retreat. "It'll be fun, I promise! We'll get some shoes too!" She tossed a look back at Elissa over her shoulder and winked. Then she turned back to Morrigan and gasped. "Shoes! We could go shopping together!"

Morrigan's outline shimmered and a hawk was airborne.

"Very well done." Zevran clapped his hands.

Elissa ignored Alistair's tensing beside her.

"I was serious." Leliana didn't bother holding back her smile. "She would look good in a red velvet dress."

"I don't think she appreciated the thought." Elissa laughed.

The hawk swooped down again. Morrigan crouched in the middle of the road, and straightened. Ignoring the others pointedly, she turned to Elissa. "There is a man over the ridge."

"What is he doing?"

"Waiting for something, I imagine." Her eyes narrowed. "Or someone."

Elissa glanced at her suddenly sobered companions. Without a word, Alistair settled his shield on his left arm and rested his right on his sword. Leliana's bow was already in her hand. Zevran, on the other hand…before Elissa had gone to sleep the night before, he'd handed back the blade Leliana had given him the night before with a smart remark. But it meant now he was unarmed.

Wordlessly, she knelt and reached into her backpack. She pulled free the longsword and dagger they'd confiscated from him, and flipped them to offer him the hilts. There was a shuffle nearby as Wynne refrained from speaking, although her disapproval seemed to hang in the air.

Zevran's smile reached his eyes as he took them from her with a half bow. He slid them into the scabbards with a scraping sound. "My thanks."

"Don't stab us in the back," Alistair growled.

Zevran smiled mildly. "I will make sure I do it from the front, then."

Elissa started walking, knowing they would follow and stop quibbling. There was a scramble as the others moved to catch up.

Topping the rise, Elissa looked down at the waterfall she'd heard before. A stone bridge arched over it, and the man Morrigan had seen stood there. He seemed alone, but Elissa had learnt not to judge too quickly. They would still need to be careful.

She descended the slope, and approached the man, one hand on Duke's collar. Bandages were wrapped around his right arm and left leg, showing he'd been in a fight recently.

As he spotted her, the young man's face lit up. "I…I thought I saw travellers coming down the road. I could scarcely believe it. Have you come to help us?"

"Help you?" Elissa frowned, her muscles relaxing slightly as he didn't seem to be a threat. "Is there something wrong?"

"So you…don't know?" Horror painted his expression, and his spirits visibly fell. "Hasn't anybody out there heard?"

"I've heard Arl Eamon is sick, if that's what you mean?" she said carefully.

"He could be dead for all we know. No-one's heard from the castle in days." His voice grew panicked. "We're under attack. Monsters come out from the castle every night and attack us till dawn. Everyone's been fighting, and dying."

Elissa stiffened. Monsters?

"Well, that's just typical, isn't it?" Zevran drawled.

Morrigan rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms. "First the mages and now this. Apparently, everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other. Marvellous, really."

The man ignored them. "We've no army to defend us, no Arl and no king to send us help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they're next!"

"Hold on." Elissa frowned. "What is this evil attacking you?" Did they have the time to stop here? If Eamon couldn't help them, they needed to be on their way to find someone else. And yet, could she leave all these poor villagers to die?

"I…I don't rightly know; I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagan. He's all that's holding us together. He'll want to see you."

"Bann Teagan?" Alistair was surprised enough to speak. "Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?"

"Yes. It's not far. If you'll follow me?"

Elissa exchanged looks for her companions, and then followed him across the bridge and down the twisting mountains towards the village. Beside the narrow path was a steep drop off into the glittering blue lake, clear enough to see schools of silver fish darting beneath the surface. Sea gulls cawed and their tiny white shapes fluttered over the harbour. Redcliffe was a fishing village after all, and the gulls would be attracted to the refuse.

"Anyone up for a bit of naked cliff diving?" Zevran asked.

Elissa twisted around to look at him. "Cliff diving? I've not heard…"

"No?" He pointed to the grassy edge ahead of them. "You leap off a tall cliff, just like this one here, into the water below. Have you never tried it?"

Elissa eyed the water, shimmering far below them. "You just jump off? Isn't that a bit…dangerous?" It was far, far higher than anything Fergus had ever shoved her off.

"But of course. That is half the fun, no? Where is the thrill without a little risk?" He grinned.

"If you say so." She glanced at him. "Why naked?"

He laughed. "Anything is improved if done naked." He sidled closer to her, ignoring Alistair's tensing behind them. "So, what do you say? Shall we take a jump together? I could hold you close if you are scared…" He batted his eyelids.

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Zevran. But I think I'll pass."

He was undaunted as he turned to the side. "Alistair? What of you? I could hold on to your big, strong, manly…"

"Zevran!" Wynne's voice was disapproving.

Zevran's eyes widened innocently. "I was just going to say muscles."

"Really?" Elissa raised an eyebrow, her own voice heavy with disbelief.

"What do you take me for?" Zevran's injured tone was almost believable, if it wasn't for the wicked smirk on his lips.

Alistair coughed, his ears bright red. "Uh, no thanks, Zevran." Up ahead of them, their guide was pointedly not listening.

The assassin sighed. "Pity. Ah well, 'tis your loss." He winked. "I am well known for my…cliff diving skills."

"I'm sure you are," Elissa said dryly.

Clearly trying to change the subject, Leliana pointed to the windmill they'd just passed. "I once took a ride on the sails of a windmill. Didn't turn out so well."

Zevran stared up at the slowly rotating wings. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"It sounds like the sort of thing you'd enjoy, assassin," Morrigan drawled.

"No, no." He waved his hands. "I am insulted. Everything I do has a purpose. And I can see no purpose in simply going around and around in a slow circle." He brightened. "Unless you were with someone else?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Leliana, you sly girl."

"Ha ha." Leliana frowned at him. "No, I wasn't. I, uh, needed a fast way down from the top of the windmill."

"Why? What happened?" Alistair appeared to have recovered from his embarrassment.

She looked a little uncomfortable. "A…friend was chasing me, and I needed to get to the bottom before her. But the sail ripped and although I did get down faster, I managed to break a leg."

"A friend?" Zevran waggled his eyebrows again.

"Do you think of anything other than…sex?" Alistair demanded, his cheeks turning bright red again.

He cocked his head. "Killing people?"

Alistair threw his hands up. "I don't believe you." He looked like he would stalk away for a moment, and then realised that doing so would leave Elissa with the assassin. He scowled and crossed his arms.

"Tis a pity." Zevran stepped closer to Leliana. "The opportunities for an imaginative couple, or three…"

"Not a chance." Leliana rolled her eyes.

By now they'd made it into the village itself. Their guide led them past frightened men practicing archery, their arrows going wide. Elissa shook her head. These men were not warriors. Farmhands and fishermen by the look of it, certainly not the knights of Redcliffe who should have been protecting the people of the village.

As it became clear that the Chantry was their destination, Elissa braced herself. It was hardly the first time she'd been in a Chantry since her kidnapping, but she'd never be quite comfortable in one. Weeping women and children were huddled in small groups, and one girl barely out of her teens was near the door, her crying somewhat louder than the rest. Injured men were being tended by their wives. Over it all hung a despair, as though they were merely waiting for the inevitable end.

At the end of the main hall, near the altar, a brown-haired man in the fine travelling clothes of a noble was speaking to one of the 'soldiers'. At their approach, he turned. It was Bann Teagan, although a much more haggard and stressed version of the man than the one she remembered from her time in Denerim. At close range his clothes were visibly crumpled and dirty, as though he'd worn them for several days.

His eyes swept them and then he smiled at their young guide. "It's….Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They're obviously not simple travellers."

"No, my lord." Tomas bowed his head deferentially. "They just arrived and I thought you would want to see them."

"Thank you, Tomas." The bann turned towards them. "Greetings, friends. My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the Arl."

Before Elissa could say anything, Alistair stepped forward. "I remember you, Bann Teagan. Though the last time we met, I was a lot younger and…covered in mud."

Elissa raised an eyebrow. That sounded like there was a story behind it. A story she would dearly love to know. She tugged off her gauntlets and hung them at her waist.

"Covered in mud?" Teagan frowned. "Alistair? It is you, isn't it? You're alive! That's wonderful news."

Ah. The bann must know that Alistair had been recruited into the Grey Wardens. So there was no chance of hiding who they were. At least Teagan didn't seem like he was about to have them arrested and sent off to Denerim.

"Still alive, yes." Alistair's face was grim. "Though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it."

"Indeed." Teagan shook his head. "Loghain would have us believe that all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, among other people."

Elissa's eyes narrowed. "You don't believe Loghain's lies, my lord?"

Teagan turned towards her. "What? That he pulled his men to save them? That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory? Hardly." He snorted." Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the king. I don't believe it. It's the act of a desperate man." His gaze swept her figure and his brow creased for a moment. "Is it possible that we've met? You look very familiar."

"I should imagine so, my lord. We've partnered at several balls and you knew my father." Unable to curtsey in armour, she offered him the correct bow and then held out her hand.

"Your fath-"Realisation dawned in his eyes and his forehead smoothed. "Lady Elissa." He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "It has been a hard few days and I didn't recognise you, my la-" He broke off. "Your Grace. Forgive me. My condolences on your loss."

Elissa flinched. Maker! She hadn't even thought about that, or not in those terms at least. With Fergus missing, or dead, she was technically Teyrna of Highever. "I am not the Teyrna, my lord." She half expected Zevran to react, but he didn't. Clearly he'd been told exactly who she was.

"I know Loghain has declared Howe the Teyrn, but-" He frowned at her look of horror. "Your Grace?"

"He-" She cleared her throat. "He named Howe Teyrn?" Fury bubbled in her chest, like a pot about to boil, and she didn't know at whom she was angrier: Loghain or Howe.

"You did not know?"

"No," she whispered.

"Ah. Howe was named Teyrn the day I left Denerim to return here." Teagan looked apologetic.

She gritted her teeth. You absolute bastard! She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again.

He looked puzzled. "I don't understand. If you didn't know about Howe…Loghain reports your brother missing, and with the…events at Highever…you are the heir, no?"

"I am a Grey Warden, my lord." And thus House Cousland falls into nothing more than a memory.

"Ah." He sighed. "I see. That does pose a problem."

Eager to leave the topic behind, she prompted, "I was hoping to see the Arl…"

Teagan shook his head. "While ordinarily I would be happy to escort you to him, Eamon is currently gravely ill."

"What a remarkable coincidence." Zevran did not look impressed.

"No one has heard from the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts." Teagan sighed. "The attacks started nearly two weeks ago. Evil…things…surged from the castle. They were driven back, but many perished from the assault."

"The monsters Tomas spoke of?"

The nobleman shuddered. "Some call them the walking dead; decomposing corpses returning to life…with a hunger for human flesh.

Elissa glanced over her shoulder at Morrigan.

The witch shrugged. "Undead. Spirits possessing the dead. There could be several causes behind such a thing, none of them pleasant."

"How do you kill something that's already dead?" Elissa eyed her.

"Cut them into small enough pieces and they can't get up again," Teagan said grimly. "At any rate, they hit again the next night." Teagan sighed. "Every night they come, in greater and greater numbers. With Cailan dead, and Loghain starting a war over the throne, no-one responds to my urgent calls for help."

Leliana looked around. "I saw only villagers and farm-hands in the town outside. Does Redcliffe not have its own soldiers?"

Teagan pressed his lips together. "Normally we would have an army of knights. Those few who have returned from their quest are watching up near the windmill, but most are still on their quest. You know of this, yes?"

Elissa vaguely remembered Alistair mentioning something about it in Lothering. "A search for… Andraste's ashes?"

"Yes." Teagan nodded. "Eamon's illness was…is very serious. The arlessa, out of desperation, sent the knights on question for the cure. I…question Isolde's decision to send so many knights in search of this relic, but I am a practical man, whereas she is a woman of great faith." He rocked his weight onto his back leg. "I have a feeling tonight's attack will be the worst yet." He glanced between Alistair and Elissa. "My lady, I hate to do this, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends."

Alistair bit his lower lip. "The Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon." He looked hopefully at her.

Elissa glanced around at the tired, frightened villagers. With shoulders slumped, they looked like they were an inch from giving up. Her heart-strings twanged. Her father's voice, in one of her earliest lessons, floated into her mind, a nobleman's first duty is to protect his people. These helpless men and women weren't exactly her people, but she could hardly let them die. "Of course we'll help."

Morrigan scoffed. "How pointless, to help these villages fight an impossible battle. One would think we had enough to contend with elsewhere."

"Thank you!" The relief on Teagan's face was almost embarrassing. "Thank you…this means more to me than you can guess. Tomas, please tell Murdock what transpired, and then you may return to your post."

"Yes, my lord." The man bowed, and hurried towards the main doors.

"Now then, there is much to do before night falls. I've put two men in charge of the defence outside…"

Elissa sighed. "Alistair, I'll be fine."

Morrigan and Leliana had already gone to 'convince' a recalcitrant mercenary to join the fight. He'd spent the last week hiding in his house, despite entreaties to help. Wynne was trying to soothe injuries and knit bones back together in the Chantry, and now Alistair was resisting heading off to convince the grieving blacksmith to open up the forge.

"But," he began.

She sighed in exasperation. "I'm wearing plate armour and Duke will be with me. If Zevran tries to kill me, he won't get very far. Now go."

He gave her a dubious look, and then glared at Zevran. "If you hurt her…"

Zevran waved a hand, looking entirely unconcerned. "Yes, yes, you will rip me to shreds and bite my head off." A slow grin spread on his face. "It is normally fathers who react like that to their daughter's suitors…do you think of our dear leader as your daughter, Alistair?"

Elissa winced. Alistair spluttered, and turned red.

"Right," she said hastily. "Let's go Zevran." She tugged lightly at Duke's collar and he padded beside her obediently as they made their way up the mountain in the direction Teagan had said the nearest inn was. Hopefully they could find someone who could shed a little light on the events. Behind them, she could still hear Alistair trying not to choke on his own tongue. Elissa glanced at her elven companion. "You shouldn't tease him like that."

"Why not?" Zevran laughed.

"You're just like Morrigan, you know."

Zevran grinned. "Comparing a Crow to a marsh witch? I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered."

"Speaking of the Crows, I know you said you wanted out. But why exactly?"

"Well now, I imagine that's a very good question." He tilted his head. "Being an assassin, after all, is a living as far as things go. I was simply never given an opportunity to choose another way. So if an opportunity presents itself, why should I not grab onto it?"

Elissa eyed him. "So…you're simply bored?"

He laughed. "I don't know that I would put it that way. I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased. For three sovereigns I'm told. Which is a good price, considering that I was skin and bones, and didn't know the pointy end of a dagger from the pommel." He showed his teeth. "The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them up to know only murder, and if you do poorly at your training, you die."

She shuddered. "That sounds awful."

"Oh, I don't know about that." He shrugged. "The Crows who are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits. In Antiva, being a Crow brings you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you men…and women, whatever it is you might fancy." He winked at her. "But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining."

Rather like being a noblewoman, she thought grimly. A beautiful, luxurious cage, but a cage nonetheless. But it had been a cage she thought she'd escaped, finding a husband who would let her indulge her interests and be something more than arm dressing. With her parents' death and her recruitment into the Grey Wardens, she was now well and truly out of the cage. Only, now she really wanted to climb back in, shut the door behind her and hide her head in her pillows.

"As for what I'll do in the future," he continued. "Presuming there is one…I really can't imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself. Far from Antiva, obviously. For now, naturally, I go where you go." He swept her a gallant bow.

Up ahead was the tavern, perched on the edge of yet another cliff. A stable nearby was empty of horses, despite being clean enough that it was clear it had regular use. Elissa headed down the path leading to the painted tavern door.

She pushed open the door and made her way inside. It swung closed behind Zevran with a soft snick. The soft murmur of voices filled the room, echoing off wooden walls. A barmaid was kneeling near one of the tables, scrubbing diligently at a stain on the floor. A large man relaxed behind the bar, one eye fixed on the maid and the other on the group of men seated at one of the far tables.

Zevran stepped forward, so his voice could reach her ear. "The elf in the corner."

Elissa turned her head. The elf Zevran meant was seated in the corner nearest the door, nursing a tankard of ale. "He looks normal to me."

Zevran shook his head. "Look at his eyes, watching everyone. And he looks guilty. Let me see what I can find out?"

Slowly, she nodded.

His eyes flickered up at their approach and he glared at them. "Not looking for company," he snapped.

Elissa's spine stiffened, and she could almost feel her hackles rising. Company? Duke growled deep in his throat.

Zevran slinked forward, cat-like in his movements. "Are you with the militia, friend?" His tone was light, pleasant.

"No. Why should I?" he demanded. "I don't live here."

"Then what are you doing here?" Zevran raised an eyebrow. "You are no merchant, or mercenary. And I doubt you are a priestess."

"I'm just waiting until I can leave again." The elf evaded the question. "What is it to you?"

Zevran ignored him in turn, and leaned closer in. His voice dropped, becoming lower and with a tinge of violence to it. "Who are you?"

He was treating the other elf as a target, Elissa realised. Interrogating him. Only without the blood and torture instruments she suspected her companion was used to using. She shifted a little uncomfortably.

"I'm not here to talk." The quarry tipped the tankard back, gulping down the contents.

"You're just here to act suspiciously then." Zevran crossed his arms.

The elf's eyes shot up. "What? I-I'm not acting suspiciously."

"Oh, well now, that was convincing," the assassin drawled.

"Look now, your mistress is pretty and all but I was told to-" He suddenly seemed to realise what he was saying and swallowed hastily. "Er, leave me alone."

Elissa pounced. "What do you mean? What were you told to do?" Was this man responsible for the monsters? For Eamon's illness?

"Nothing." The elf glanced around, as though hoping for someone to rescue him. "Nobody told me to do anything. Just because you're a Grey Warden doesn't mean you can go around threatening people."

"And how do you know the lady is a Grey Warden?" Zevran took back control of the conversation.

Elissa glanced nervously at the other patrons, but they didn't seem to notice the argument going on over here.

"Uh." The elf's eyes darted around again nervously. "I, uh, just overheard it, that's all. If you'll excuse me…. I want to get to the Chantry before the sun goes down." He set down the tankard and made to stand.

Zevran's hand was suddenly against his chest, pushing him back down to the seat. "This will be much easier if you just tell me what you're hiding."

There wasn't even an attempt at hiding the menace this time, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. This was the assassin, not the joking and inappropriate elf they'd spent the last thirty hours with. For a moment, Elissa wondered if she'd made the right decision in handing him weapons. A man this cold would have no issue with sinking a blade into her back one night.

"If I-but I never-" he stammered. Then he swallowed. "Oh, all right, I'll tell you. Just don't hurt me."

"I won't if you talk." Zevran's dark eyes were cold.

"Look, they just paid me to watch the castle, and report any changes," the elf said quickly. "They didn't say anything about monsters! I haven't even been able to report anything since this all started. I'm stuck, same as you. I swear!"

Was Eamon's illness was intentional then? And the monsters? "Who told you?"

The elf, whom she now realised was barely more than a teen, cringed and looked away.

"Answer the lady's question," Zevran growled.

"A tall fellow, I forget his name. He said he was working for Howe. Arl Rendon Howe. He's an important man, Teyrn Loghain's right hand. So I'm not doing anything wrong."

"When was this?" Elissa's eyes narrowed. "When were you told?"

"Three weeks ago."

After Ostagar, then. Loghain and Howe, if Teagan was to be believed, were already working together by then. Was Loghain involved in this…whatever it was? "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Their target fumbled in his pockets and came out with a folded piece of parchment. "Look, here's the letter from him, with instructions and everything…keep it. Do whatever you want with it! I just thought I was serving the king and making a little coin on the side. Please," he begged, "you have to believe me."

Elissa glanced at Zevran, who shrugged minutely.

"I don't think I want you to go very far just yet." The chill in her own voice surprised her. "You should head down to the Chantry and stay there for now. Just to be sure."

Panic swept across the elf's face. "Oh…" He swallowed bravely. "All right. I'll do it. Thank you for your mercy, I won't forget it."

As he scurried out, Elissa sighed. "So Howe is not satisfied with the destruction of Highever, now he attacks Redcliffe as well? I don't understand. He cannot expect to be named Arl of Redcliffe as well…"

Zevran said nothing.

Thirty minutes later, they hastily made their way outside the tavern and back up the hill towards the windmill, where they would fight. Through the gloomy almost-darkness, Elissa could see Alistair talking and laughing with a group of knights. Morrigan hovered in the background, her gleaming yellow eyes warily watching the proceedings. Leliana and Wynne were up on the windmill balcony. It would give them the greatest possible range while keeping them out of the melee fighting.

"Just in time, Lady Elissa." one of the knights looked up as she approached. "Once dusk is upon us, they will strike." He glanced up at the sun, which had nearly completely disappeared beneath the horizon.

"Is there a plan, Ser?"

"Kill as many of the buggers as we can before we die," one of the other knights said bitterly. "And hope it's enough. Beggin' your pardon, lady."

"Now, there's a cheerful thought," Morrigan said dryly.

"The villagers are down at the Chantry?" Elissa glanced at Leliana.

The Orlesian nodded. "Though, I would not vouch for their ability at arms."

Elissa snorted, and a tense silence fell on the group. Anticipation hung in the air, mixed with the heavy stench of fear. There was no sign of life, even the birds had fled, as though they knew what was coming with the arrival of nightfall. The only sound was the rush of water as it flowed down the nearby stream, and the harsh breathing of a dozen helmeted knights.

"Here it comes!" One of the knights gestured up at the distant castle on the other side of the lake. The drawbridge was moving, and a billowing cloud of dust emerged from it. It moved down the road long faster than Elissa had ever seen clouds travel before.

"Undead." Morrigan's voice barely reached her ears. "With powerful magic behind it. I can smell it."

There was a loud scraping of metal on metal as swords were drawn and readied. Elissa jammed her helmet on, and settled her shield on her left arm. She glanced at her companions. Her eyebrows rose as she noted Zevran tipping the glowing green contents of a small vial onto his blades. Poison of some sort, she guessed, though what poison would be effective against those already dead she wasn't sure. Still, he was an Antivan and there was nothing an Antivan trusted more than his deadly concoctions.

Morrigan's voice echoed above them, and shimmering ice surrounded their blades. It steamed in the night-air, despite the chilly breeze wafting past Elissa's neck. Elissa grinned almost despite herself at the surprised knights' colourful language.

"Here they come!" Alistair's cry split the air.

"Easy, boy." Elissa gripped Duke's collar with her shield hand, keeping him from charging ahead. He growled, but waited obediently. She flexed her other hand, feeling the gauntlet move with her and close more tightly around her sword hilt.

A whistling sound announced Leliana's first arrow as it sped across the distance towards the monsters descending the hill. Only a moment behind it, a bolt of blue magic followed, and then a purple one as the two mages joined the ranged fight. The unlucky victim dropped to the ground silently. Its companions were undeterred, barely seeming to notice their fallen comrade as they flowed down towards the waiting group.

Elissa waited, judging the distance between them and their opponents. Then she let go of Duke's collar, and leapt forward in the same movement. Her blade met another with a sharp clang, and she whipped it away to strike again. She faced a corpse that had clearly been dead a few days before being brought back to life. The stench of rotting flesh turned her stomach, and she had to hold her breath as she attacked.

The monsters came in successive waves, each larger than the one before. Magical power lit up the sky and reflected off ice-sheathed blades, with the two mages draining mana potions in each snatched pause between battles. Years of training had Elissa's muscles flowing automatically from slash to thrust and back again. Unlike fighting darkspawn or demons, this was almost familiar. Whoever these men had been before their deaths, they had been well trained. Where darkspawn slashed wildly and without training, relying on speed and ferocity to get through, these corpses fought like warriors. In a way, that made it easier for Elissa. She knew which thrust would follow which chop, and could counter before the move even began.

Elissa breathed heavily as she spun, searching for a new opponent. There were none, although she could see movement on the drawbridge up ahead. But it was quiet for now, when they could all catch their breath.

"Do you think that's it?" Alistair gasped out.

Elissa nodded up at the drawbridge. "Doesn't look like it." She shook out her shield arm, which ached from the continual impact of swords and maces.

"Elissa!" Leliana shrieked.

Elissa whipped around, but was too slow to bring her sword up as a monster she'd thought was dead leaped to its feet. The blade descended towards her neck at a vicious speed. A small object crashed into the corpse, knocking it off balance and to the floor. Zevran's twin blades plunged through the gaps in the leather armour. The monster twitched once, and then slumped.

Stunned silence reigned.

Elissa cleared her throat. "Uh. Thanks."

The elf leaped up and off, turning to glance at Elissa. "Don't take your eyes off your enemies. Ever." His expression was sober for once.

Elissa nodded silently.

Heavy breathing announced the arrival of one of the militiamen before he came into sight. "The monsters," he gasped out. "They're attacking…from the harbour."

Elissa said a series of words under her breath that would have had her mother wash her mouth out with soap.

"We have to help." One of the knights made for the path.

Elissa made a split second decision. "No. There are still monsters coming over the drawbridge. Saving them below won't help if we get attacked from behind. You stay here." Ignoring his spluttering, she turned towards her companions. "Alistair, Zevran, Morrigan, you're with me. Wynne, Leliana, stay here and keep the knights alive."

Without giving anyone time to argue and without bothering to sheath her blade, she dashed down the slope. "Come on, Duke." Tiny rocks loosened by her fast descent scatter below her and she barely dodges the shower caused by the others following her down.

As they neared the village itself, Elissa could hear the sounds of desperate fighting. When they rounded the last corner, the trouble was immediately obvious. The militia were desperately fending off dozens of the monsters, but were clearly outclassed. For a moment, Elissa wondered whether she should have brought Leliana and Wynne as well. Then she didn't have time to think, as she was surrounded. Dimly, she heard the whoop that heralded Alistair's arrival, but ignored in favour of fighting for her life. She whirled from one dying enemy, searching the next, and narrowly avoided chopping off an armour-clad Bann Teagan's head.

By the time the sun peeked over the easterly horizon, Elissa felt like dropping. Eight hours of being alert and waiting, interspersed by vicious fighting, was draining. More than one of the militia had dropped from exhaustion and were currently sleeping it off. The three of them, Duke, Bann Teagan and the major had been the only ones fighting for the last hour or so, but thankfully the number of enemies had fallen as well. Now, however, she felt like collapsing.

"We survived the night," Teagan murmured.

She didn't have the energy to answer, leaning back against the Chantry wall. "Someone should go and tell the people inside they're safe." Despite her words, she didn't move.

With a groan, Alistair pushed off the wall. "I'll go." He disappeared into the building.

"You fight well, my lady."

Elissa cracked her eyes open and glanced at the bann. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have escaped Ostagar, my lord. Nor Highever."

"Touché," he inclined his head. He hesitated. "If you will forgive me for saying it, but you are very different to the Lady Elissa I knew at court."

"Am I?" Elissa closed her eyes again. "You would only have met me at balls, I suppose. Anyone looks different in armour compared to a ball-gown."

"There is more to it than that, Lady."

She glanced at him sideways. "At balls, noblewomen are expected to dance, flirt and gossip, my lord. Men are not the only ones to wear masks at court."

He glanced at her in surprise, and then sighed. "You know."

She laughed. "That your 'interest' in me three years ago was feigned? My lord, you are not a very good actor. It was easy enough to tell you had little interest in me, and only courted me because your brother wanted a Cousland connection."

"Is that why you said no? Because it was my brother?"

Elissa shook her head. "No. An arranged marriage is an arranged marriage, after all, and most men who courted me wanted the connection. The fact it was your brother rather than you meant little."

"Then why did you..."

"I wanted my freedom." She smiled. "And I have my pride, my lord. I was still girl enough to hope for a husband who would do more than deign to accept me for my family name." And see where that got me! Her smile faded slightly.

He blushed. Then he looked at her again. "I think," he said slowly, "that I am glad you said no, my lady."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow. That was not what she expected to hear.

"I like quiet, and peace. And you…you seem destined for a life of action…" He gestured around at the corpses.

"Not by choice, I assure you." Elissa shook her head.

"Even if this had not happened, I think you would have been happiest ruling a Teyrnir, or at least your husband's Arling. Rainesfere would have been too small for someone like you." He grinned, suddenly appearing a decade younger. "We would have driven each other mad."

She laughed again. "Most likely, my lord."