Dawn broke with dark clouds brooding to the south. A clammy oppressiveness indicated rain, or more likely sleet, was on it's way. Unperturbed by the weather, Raviathan peppered Duncan with questions with even more interest than he had the day before. What did it take to be an official Grey Warden? What was the Joining Ritual? Were they under the King's command? If not, did they still have to obey the same laws? How was the Order organized? Where were the other Grey Wardens located? How old was the Order? How many Grey Wardens were there? And so on.

Conversation helped Raviathan keep his mind off his aches from the long miles of walking. He had maintained his physique with the exercises his mother had taught him, but there wasn't much walking in the tiny alienage. Different muscles were being put to the test, and between that and the cold, Raviathan felt decidedly stiff.

Duncan tried to appease the lad's curiosity by detailing what he knew about the First through Fourth Blights. By noon, Duncan had run out of answers he could give about the Wardens and their history. "Rav, I wish I could tell you everything now, but some of this is secret to the Order. I promise after you're an official Grey Warden, I and the others will answer any questions you have to the best of our ability and without reservation, but you must be patient for now."

The elf crossed his arms looking away. "Am I bothering you?"

"No, no. I'm glad you're curious, but there are reasons why I can't answer now. There are secrets known only to the Wardens. You'll understand in time." Duncan heard a soft sigh as the elf acquiesced. "If you don't mind my asking." Raviathan looked up at him with mild curiosity. "I have a few questions."

The elf gave a rueful grin. "Okay. I can't imagine I have anything interesting to say though."

"Let's start with this. You carry your clothes and the like in the sack, so what's in the case?" He suspected he knew from the apothecary's interest the day before, but he wanted to hear it from the elf.

Raviathan looked down at the case, surprised by the question. "It's my healer's kit."

"Then you know the healing arts?" Duncan asked in delight. An herbalist or someone skilled in poisons he had expected, but a healer would be immensely valuable.

"My aunt taught me. I know a bit about herbs, how to make poultices, compresses, tinctures, potions, splints, casts, set bones, how to clean and stitch a wound and keep it from infection and the like. I can deliver babies too, but I doubt you'll need much of that. Solyn made sure I knew everything she did."

Duncan grinned. "So you're a physician as well as an herbalist?"

"Sure," the elf said nonchalantly, but he could tell by Duncan's grin that his skills would be put to use. There was satisfaction in that. He was coming to terms with his new fate, and it was gratifying that his skills which always had to be hidden were finally going to be useful without the fear he had before. It was an odd freedom that this conscription had brought.

"Excellent. Next question then," he said watching the elf in his periphery. "You didn't seem very upset about that man who propositioned you that first night." Raviathan shrugged. "Did it bother you?"

The elf's eyes turned to him mischievously though he kept his face forward. His baritone went up an octave as he dramatically lamented, "Oh Maker. Why oh why did you curse me with this stunning visage of loveliness? Why must I forever be tormented with the attentions of others? Have you no heart, Maker? This beauty is like a curse." Duncan chuckled, and Raviathan's white teeth flashed. He looked directly at Duncan, becoming serious. "I was propositioned often enough at the docks, but so were the other elves. The humans keep calling me beautiful. I hear them talk about it."

"Well, you are beautiful," Duncan said as a simple statement of fact. Elves were often considered the most attractive of the four known humanoid races but also the weakest. The Dalish were the only elves who were respected as hunters. While Raviathan may have been joking, he really was stunningly beautiful even for one of his race. Where Adaia was delicate, Raviathan was more angular and sculpted, but they shared the same sensuous mouth, large eyes, and exotic coloration. "Don't get me wrong, Rav," he amended, seeing a shadow pass over the elf's face. "I can enjoy looking at a well made dress on a woman, but that doesn't mean I want to wear it." At the elf's troubled look Duncan asked, "Does it bother you that I said that?"

"No. Not really. I know you're not interested in me that way. I'm sorry I acted like that the other night. It was just easier to be angry than grieve."

"I thought as much," said Duncan sympathetically. "Apology accepted."

Raviathan nodded. He figured Duncan already knew he was sorry, but he felt better for having said it. "I don't mean to sound arrogant or vain. I know I'm good looking for an elf, but that seems exaggerated when I'm among humans."

Duncan was surprised the elf was willing to discuss racial politics and was glad to see he was speaking about it with an open mind. "Let me first say I'm sorry elves have been treated so badly. What happened at your wedding was another in a long line of injustices that started centuries before the First Blight. I don't mean to trivialize that at all, but I would like to speak openly." Raviathan gave him a long look that was curious if somewhat guarded, then nodded for him to continue. "Your race is considered more attractive in general. Even elven men are pretty by our standards, and you're not only beautiful, but exotic as well. And human men who would normally not be attracted to another man aren't as particular when it comes to elven men. But you already know that."

Raviathan crossed his arms. "Sometimes I get more attention than I like, especially from men like that. But they don't do that because I'm better looking or not. Looks have little to do with it. A woman who carries herself with confidence is more attractive even if she isn't necessarily more beautiful. It has more to do with what I am than what I look like. I hate that being an elf means that people assume I'm automatically up for sale. A human woman walks into a bar and the men buy her drinks. They just try to buy me."

"Have you had much of that? I didn't think you'd been outside of the alienage that much."

"On occasion," he admitted. "I made sure to walk home with a group when I was working at the docks."

"Hmm," Duncan murmured. "Please take this in the light it is intended." Raviathan looked back at him with interest. "You've had a few bad days, and we have been in rough areas, but if you carry yourself a little differently, you might get propositioned less."

The elf cocked his head at him. "Go on."

"I bet you didn't get hassled on the way back from the Arl's estate."

"No," Raviathan said still watching him closely. Duncan hunched his shoulders and looked up, wide eyed and frightened. Raviathan narrowed his eyes, studying the man, then lifted up his chest which naturally squared his shoulders. His face became stony and impassive.

"Maybe not that hard all the time," Duncan said reviewing the boy, "but something like that. It's enough of a reminder that even roses have thorns."

Raviathan laughed at the light teasing. "My mother said that stupid or inexperienced wouldn't notice, but a guard who had a better eye could tell I've had training. And what trouble that could lead to. I couldn't walk around armed, so it was better to go unnoticed. She taught me a few techniques to blend into the background or at look less like a threat to those who would notice."

"She was right. But you're a Grey Warden now. It's time to stop hiding." Duncan watched as Raviathan thought over his new role. He could see the elf start to take his words to heart, see an easy confidence come into his relaxed gait.

"Thank you, Duncan. It's a habit, but you're right. I think my mom wanted to teach me more, but what she did teach me was for safety."

"Just make sure that your thorns don't get so prickly no one can see the rose."

Raviathan chuckled. "To be honest being good looking has made my life easier."

"Oh?"

Raviathan's grin flashed again. "Made getting girls ridiculously easy," which made Duncan smile in spite of himself. Raviathan became more introspective as he added, "When I was young I noticed my punishments were lighter from everyone except my mom. I've gotten better treatment than I should have too. Not always, but there were times I noticed people soften up to me. Sometimes all I had to do was smile. Other times, even when I was mean or did something wrong, they'd let me get away with more than I should have. I think my mother was tougher to make up for it." He shrugged. "I always liked it that I took after her. Made me feel closer to her and like I came from something special."

"You did. No one in Thedas could hold a candle to her." Adaia had a refined perfection to her exotic features that could have made her a legend in Val Royeaux had she the inclination. Those looks sometimes had a price, but more often people were intimidated by it or bowed more easily to her wishes. The darkspawn might not care if they were killed by perfection incarnate, but her charm would have helped the Wardens navigate the politics they often had to deal with despite their neutral status. Duncan wondered briefly how Cailan would react to Raviathan, if the elf could charm the king, but he wasn't convinced Raviathan had enough of his mother's training to become an effective agent for the Wardens.

A bittersweet smile touched Raviathan's lips as he remembered his mother. "How did you know her?"

"We had a few misadventures."

The elven eyes lit up awaiting the tale. "You have to tell me. No, seriously," he added as Duncan looked like he was about to tease him. "You have to."

Duncan chuckled. "Alright. It was when she first moved to Denerim, before she married your father. She was still more on the wild side and often skulked around the city at night unbeknownst to Valendrian. She didn't steal, but she had a lot of curiosity. Worse than a cat. As it was, she started turning her hand at spy work."

The shine in Raviathan's eyes glowed vibrantly. Duncan couldn't help but feel charmed as he had with Adaia. Raviathan had just admitted he had that effect, practically warned him, but it didn't lessen the little sense of delight that warmed Duncan's chest. What was it about the two elves that so easily charmed others? Perhaps Adaia had been the only one immune to the boy, or perhaps she hadn't. Whatever the case, she had loved her son enough to make sure he wasn't spoiled or defenseless. Raviathan, for his part, was certainly still in the thrall of her memory.

"Nothing too bad," Duncan continued. "Mainly following cheating spouses for the nobility or finding out a bit of intrigue, but she was becoming rather infamous for occasionally taunting the guards. One night I was returning to our Denerim base when I saw her evading the two patrols of guards. To my surprise, she decided to try and hide out in the Grey Warden base. Now I couldn't have that. When I cornered and confronted her, I offered her a job in exchange for not calling the guard.

"We had some of our equipment pilfered a few days before, and I had suspected it was a bored nobleman, but I had no proof. Three nights later the equipment returned along with the lord's signet ring. We couldn't openly confront the man, but the two waged a covert war, and I put Adaia in charge of our defenses. A sword of ours would be taken, then it would be returned along with a painting. The painting would disappear a week after that along with a few books, which would turn up four days later with an attractive vase, and so on. It brought a delightful sense of randomness to the base, and a few Wardens adopted the Nightcat as a sort of mascot. After a few months of this, the nobleman asked me to conscript him so he could get out of an arranged marriage, which I obliged. I made Adaia the same offer, but she decided to settle down with your father." Duncan looked down at Raviathan who had a wistful smile playing on his lips. "When I told her Grey Wardens couldn't have families, I think that's what made her change her mind."

Raviathan returned Duncan's gaze looking serene. "The Nightcat. That's appropriate for her."

"You have quite a bit of her in you," Duncan said.

Raviathan's serenity turned to melancholy. "Not really. I'm too cautious and… well," he sighed. "I'm not like her. Nothing seemed to get her down, or at least not for long. It's like she had this fire that couldn't be quenched. I've never known anyone who had such a playful attitude towards life."

"I don't regret letting her go." Duncan put a hand on his shoulder. The elf looked up at him in surprise. "I would have regretted losing you, though."

Raviathan looked fixedly forward as a tinge of red warmed his cheeks. It was only after they had travelled another mile that the elf spoke again. "Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

Duncan considered. "You can fight and heal. What other skills do you have?"

"Hmm. I can cook a bit. I know how to make some basic poisons."

"Is that a threat?"

The elf smiled. "No. Not anymore at least," he said bumping into Duncan playfully. "There's not a whole lot. Mom taught me what she knew as an entertainer: how to play a few instruments, sing and dance, some sleight of hand tricks with coins, juggling, and the like. I can read and speak Arcanum and darn a sock. I know a little accounting and book keeping." Accounting? That was an odd skill to have. As Duncan thought about it though, it would be useful in keeping the Warden accounts. "Anything in particular you want to know about?"

"Adaia specialized in stealth. Did she teach you that?"

"Oh yes. She taught me how to cloak in shadow or go unnoticed in the background as a servant. There was a lot of tumbling practice, and I can keep my balance on high walls. She was starting to teach me how to break into places. I haven't done much of that though. Especially after she died, I didn't want to bring more trouble to my family. I can pick locks too, but it's been years since I practiced any of that. After she died my father got rid of all our weapons and equipment except for a lock pick set I kept in the bottom of my trunk. I'm pretty rusty."

Not so rusty you couldn't take out an estate's worth of guards and nobles. A flash of lighting lit the distant south followed by a low roll of thunder that echoed off the hills. "Do you follow politics much?"

Raviathan bit his lips, a habit Duncan noticed meant it was a subject he was reluctant to talk about. "After Ness came to Denerim, my father told me why it was important to start paying attention to politics, that knowing about Howe had let her family get to safety before he ordered a purge. I know little bits and rumors, but I never paid much attention to them."

"Rumors? What kind of rumors?"

"Which nobles are having affairs. Who's lost their family fortune and is in too much debt but is hiding it. Who got drunk at a party and made a fool of themselves. Shems forget about their servants, and sometimes there was talk."

Gossiping servants were something Duncan always suspected. Duncan had made sure his Wardens were careful around the few servants they had to clean and cook. "There were never thoughts to blackmail them?"

"We don't care that much other than to watch for danger. Any elf who saw too much or got some overly ambitious ideas would disappear or get hurt. Besides, who's going to believe an elf? If we spoke up, we'd just make a target of ourselves. Most of its pretty common knowledge anyway. You knew about Vaughan, didn't you?"

"Not much. Only that he was left in Arl Kendell's absence."

Raviathan looked at him quizzically. "Not about the abused servants or disappearances?"

Duncan searched his memory. "He was popular with some of the nobles. Was considered a man's man in that he liked to hunt, race, and bed many women to those who appreciate such distinctions," Duncan said with a trace of loathing breaking through his calm. "There were some rumors that he was short tempered. I didn't know the extent of his… activities until Valendrian said more."

Raviathan considered that with some surprise. Vaughan had been notorious at the alienage and his elven workers lived at the estate when their options for employment were with him or a brothel.

"I agree with your father though, Rav. It pays to be aware of these things even if we are neutral. Howe and what happened with the Couslands are a perfect example as is our relationship with the king."

The elf smirked. "There are rumors about Cailan too. He's been discreet, but he's had a number of affairs."

That bit of news wasn't known to most, but Duncan didn't doubt it. "You've got an impressive network of spies Rav, but be very cautious with who you speak to about such things."

"Of course."

Giving the elf a sidelong look, Duncan asked, "What else?"

Though there was no smile, Duncan could tell the elf was amused by the question. "The queen knows about them. She's been keeping it hidden from her father though." The elf became serious. "Is it true married humans don't sleep in the same bed?"

That was an odd question. Duncan was still working on the significance of Cailan's bed company. Loghain was more politically practical than Maric had been, but such knowledge could make the Teyrn unpredictable. He wasn't sure how to gauge the reliability of Raviathan's rumors though. "Generally, no. Among the nobility however, there are political marriages where there is no love, and in those cases they often have different rooms. In Orlais that practice is much more common. The emperor and empress do not share the same rooms, and there are even rooms for official concubines."

Raviathan opened his mouth in shock then shook his head. "Official concubines? Humans are so strange. In any case there are some suspicions about the queen's handmaiden. They could be lovers, but I don't think so."

"Oh?" Duncan asked.

"I have a cousin who works at the palace. Just a chambermaid, but she sees things and asks me what I think about them. The Queen's handmaiden is an Orlesian elf, and that sometimes means someone… trained. I haven't ever seen either woman let alone talk to them, so this is all just presumption. What I do know is that Queen Anora and her handmaiden are close. I think if it were an affair, she would be more discreet though."

"More discreet?" Duncan asked interested to see the elf's thought pattern.

"The affection they share is casual. If it were an affair, they would hide it more. When I was selling a silverite bowl and candlestick yesterday at Tradetown, the woman accused me of stealing them. They were, but the most suspicious thing to do is be defensive. People hide what they're afraid of."

"When did you steal those?" Duncan's habit of theft as a youth had saved his life more than once, but it had also gotten him into a lot of trouble.

"When we were leaving the Arl's estate. It's not like his corpse is going to need them, and there aren't any heirs to raise a fuss."

"Be careful what you steal," Duncan began but the elf cut him off.

"I'm not an idiot. And it isn't a habit," Raviathan assured him. "I didn't dishonor my family, and I won't do that to you. I'll admit selling them was a bit risky, but they were wasting space, and I figured I could talk the woman into it."

"And if she decided to call the guard?" Duncan asked thinking the risk had been a poor one. Intent on using this as a lesson so he wouldn't have to put up with the nonsense he gave Genevieve, Duncan readied his lecture.

"I'd say I was selling them for my master. It doesn't hurt we're both dark. Makes it easy to believe we're travelling together. They were unmarked in any case. Besides, if you were willing to save me from a hanging I had confessed to, you weren't going to let a baseless accusation of theft interfere," Raviathan replied. "You think I didn't notice you watching me? Speaking of which, would you mind selling the jewelry? That is too suspicious for me."

Feeling sheepish, Duncan decided to let the subject go for now and instead asked, "Then how do you know about Cailan?"

Raviathan grinned. "She caught him in bed with a naked woman. Neither of them even noticed my cousin. I don't think that needs a lot of interpretation."

The skies that had been threatening rain all morning finally opened up. The two donned their oiled fur cloaks and walked in silence down the road. Thankfully the ground turned spongy with the rain rather than slick or squishy so their progress was not hindered much. They reached the inn only an hour into the dark of evening. For the first time the inn was not overcrowded though a few soldiers hung about the main room trading tales by the fire. "Would you order the room and food?" Duncan asked wanting to get his feet warm enough so he could feel his toes again.

Raviathan held out his hand for the silvers then went off to talk with the innkeeper. Duncan sat down gratefully by the fire, sinking into the comfortable chair. It had been a few years since he had stopped here, and they had apparently made some improvements in that time. The place gleamed with new wood and fresh whitewall.

A red headed soldier with a scrawny beard was nursing an ale by the fire and only half listening to his fellows. His eyes tracked Raviathan. He glanced at Duncan who fixed him a flat look in return that would be enough to dissuade the man from any unhealthy actions. Having staked his claim so to speak, he leaned back and rested his eyes. The soldiers babbled on about one of the ash warriors they had seen in action then of the various knight orders who were present at Ostagar. The soldiers were still green and hence worked as messengers. They were hoping to pledge an order and so discussion of relative merits and reputations ensued.

Duncan realized he had fallen into a doze when Raviathan touched his arm to wake him. "Food's ready." Part weather and part of years of abuse from combat, Duncan stood with a wince as his muscles protested. He had known he would stiffen up by the fire, but it had been too tempting a call to ignore. He watched Raviathan move with enviable grace to the dinning room. The young never understood how good they had it.

The meal was a standard fare of poultry, recently harvested fall vegetables, mashed turnips, and bread, but it was well made and in generous portions. Raviathan watched Duncan eat then shook his head. "I still can't get over how much you eat. Is that normal for humans?"

Sidestepping the issue, Duncan replied, "Wardens tend to lead an active life. I'm sure your appetite will grow soon."

When they finished, the serving maid said, "Your baths are ready. Just down the hall and on the right."

"Thanks," Raviathan said leading the way.

Two copper tubs were ready with steaming water and a fire keeping more buckets hot. Soap and fresh towels were on a bench. "How did you manage this with the money I gave you?" Duncan asked, worried that he wouldn't like the answer, though now that he saw the ready bath, he'd be willing to pay whatever it cost to keep it.

Like most elves who couldn't afford well made textiles, Raviathan dressed in layers to protect against the cold. The added clothes helped fill out his loose armor, but it reminded Duncan just how slight the boy was without the extra bulk. He had lots of well developed, lean muscle, but elven frames were willowy as a rule. "I saw the innkeeper's hands were already bloody from winter chapping and made him a salve. It worked so well he asked me to care for a boil on his son's leg. Then I made a cream to sooth his father's hemorrhoids." His voice was muffled as he pulled off his tunic and undershirt, "I didn't ask for payment, but they were happy to throw in these baths and tomorrow's breakfast."

Part of Raviathan's lithe frame was from youth with the addition of an elf's natural structure, but the young man did have hard muscles in his V shaped torso. There wasn't a pound of fat Duncan noticed as he undid the many clasps on his own armor. Raviathan left his wool socks on as long as he could, padding to one of the tubs before pulling them off. The baths might be warm, but the stone floor wasn't. Thinking the boy had the right idea, Duncan followed suit, taking off his socks just before he entered the tub. Duncan couldn't help his sigh of relief, and Raviathan smiled, glad he had done right by the old warrior.

Raviathan kept his eyes closed as he soaked, enjoying the luxury of spreading out in the welcome heat. The tub was so large he could easily dunk his whole body in. As the warmth finished unfreezing his aching legs, Raviathan decided he wasn't about to put his frozen, soggy clothes back on that night. He didn't care if any of the inn's patrons laughed at him. A towel would have to do until he got to their room to change into his sleeping things.

"Duncan? Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

"You can ask, though I might not answer."

Raviathan dipped under to wet his hair then started soaping up. Duncan wasn't ready to do anything more than soak for the time being. "Do you often have nightmares?"

The old warrior took his time answering. "Lately, yes. Did I bother you?"

"No," Raviathan said. "I was just wondering." He smiled with a brightness that was a bit forced, "I guess I was so warm last night I slept like the dead." Duncan wondered if he had said anything in his sleep. "Um," the elf hedged. Duncan's eyes silted open to see the elf watching him covertly. "Do all humans have hair? On their bodies?"

Duncan chuckled at the cautious question. "Not everyone, but it's common enough. Men more than women."

"So," Raviathan asked studying him a little more openly, "some human women have hair on their chests too?"

At that Duncan laughed. "Not on their chests. Just like women don't grow beards. Leg hair is found on both, but women tend to have finer hair. Some men, like women, have very little hair. Some men have a great deal all over or on certain parts. It just depends."

Having satisfied his delicate questions for the night, Raviathan finished his wash and dried off. He put on his socks, boots, and a towel wrapped around his waist. "Do you want any more hot water before I go?"

Young men recover too quickly, Duncan thought. He wasn't even ready for a wash yet, still enjoying the heat of the soak. "If it isn't any trouble." It didn't occur to him until Raviathan was pouring more hot water in that he might have asked just to get a better look at a nude human, but the elf had his back turned and was giving him as much privacy as possible. Raviathan returned the kettle to the fire and gathered his things. Duncan asked, "You're not getting dressed?"

"Clothes are wet and cold. I'll dress in the dry stuff I have upstairs."

Duncan leaned further in the tub as the renewed hot water eased him. He would have to be careful he didn't fall asleep again. "Make sure you go unnoticed. One of the army men was looking at you."

"Oh," said the elf startled. "Thanks for the notice. I've left a second key here. Room's on the second floor, third door on the left."

The door clicked close, and Duncan swished the water about to even out the heat at his feet. He thought about Raviathan. So far he had seen a bright and resourceful lad, clever with people even though he didn't know humans well. That was as far as he got before the heat had him dozing.

The Archdemon raised its head to a sky of black rolling clouds. Horrible and powerful, beautiful and terrifying. Darkspawn had no souls, but the Archdemon did. A god made flesh, ancient, and full of corruption. It screamed and pain lanced through Duncan's head. He woke with a start. It wasn't just the dreams that disturbed him. Afterwards he could feel the taint crawling under his skin like spiders. It made him want to pick his skin off, but thankfully the feeling didn't last long after he woke. In a few minutes, as his heart slowed down to its normal pace, the itching under his skin dissipated.

The water was still warm but felt tepid compared to the earlier heat. Duncan washed up quickly. A towel was near the bathtub as were a fresh pair of dry socks. His armor and wet clothing were gone, and there were dry clothes waiting for him by the fire. His nightshirt was there as well, getting toasty. It could have been a servant, but most likely it was Raviathan who had done this while he slept. Duncan was grateful as his long, warm nightshirt heated his skin and but annoyed with himself that he hadn't woken when the elf moved about. Allowing himself to fall so deeply asleep that he had been completely unaware of the elf had been careless. Even in these pleasant surroundings, there was always a chance for something unexpected to happen. As Duncan left, he noticed Raviathan had the sense to make sure the bathing room door was locked.

Sitting in the lone chair in their room, Raviathan looked up from his sewing to smile at Duncan when he entered. The room was lit by only a single candle, but that was enough for elven vision to work by. Both their sets of armor hung on stands, and their clothes laid out to dry overnight. Warming stones had been placed on the bed as well. How much of this was the servants and how much the elf? "If you had taken much longer, I was going to wake you."

"They didn't have a room with two beds?" Duncan asked.

"This was cheaper. Speaking of which," Raviathan pointed with his chin to Duncan's change on the little table by the bed.

"Make sure you don't forget that tomorrow," Duncan replied removing his leggings and socks. He looked over to see the elf watching pensively. "Is something wrong?"

The elf put down his sewing and watched him with large, unreadable eyes. "You've been very kind to me, Duncan."

It made Duncan sad to see the elf watch him like that now that he understood the expression. It was like watching a sweet tempered dog who had been beaten his whole life and couldn't quite bring itself to believe anyone would be nice to it. "Let's get some sleep."

After removing the stones, Duncan tossed the two pillows in the center of the bed, but Raviathan said, "Don't worry about it."

"No?"

Raviathan stopped packing away his half tailored clothes and turned his head to look over his shoulder, casting an overwrought seductive glance Duncan's way. The elf's voice was deep and low with the intimacy of a lover. "I suppose since you've been able resist my charms thus far, we can spare the pillows."

Duncan laughed as he slid under the warmed blankets. Raviathan finished packing then curled up on his side of the bed, back towards Duncan.

Normally Duncan would have sent him south so he could become more familiar with the other two recruits, but Raviathan didn't have an escort, and there was no immediate need. In any case, Duncan enjoyed getting to know the boy. As the days passed, Duncan found he was growing fond of the lad, and there was no mistake that he was helping the young elf adjust to the world outside the alienage. He was distantly aware of Raviathan shifting in his sleep as his own tiredness overtook him.