I was warm and comfortable, wondering just where my sudden concerns for appearance had come from over the last month. Anders ran a finger up and down my arm as I played with his hair and we talked of places we'd like to visit. It had been a common discussion among apprentices, but with us the unspoken truth was that now we could. I told him the stories of Val Royeaux that Leliana had shared with me, Anders told me of his fascination with the underground city of Orzammar. We both thought that, as mages, seeing the Tevinter Imperium for ourselves would be interesting, and he agreed with my curiosity about Weisshaupt even knowing what Riordan had told me.

There were just two problems in the world at the moment. The first was that I knew four Wardens waited downstairs for their Commander to lead them to the Wending Wood. The second was that, after skipping breakfast, I was so hungry even the blanket was starting to look edible. After trying to convince myself neither of those things mattered and failing, I determined I would have to say something.

"You know," Anders said, interrupting my thoughts, "I hate to say it, but I'm starving."

"Me too," I admitted. "And everyone is waiting for us downstairs. We're supposed to head out after lunch." Thinking about the four of them snickering downstairs was enough to get me moving. With a groan I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "Right," I said, reaching to the floor trying to figure out what was mine.

Anders was still lying in bed, watching me get ready. "I thought you were starving?" I asked him, whipping a brush through my hair. He didn't reply, but climbed out of bed and began to dress.

"I am, but I didn't want to move, either," He climbed out of bed and began buttoning his robes. "You can see the dilemma I was in." I laughed and tossed him my hairbrush once his robes were on. Once presentable we walked into my office.

"I need to send a letter to Denerim today; you don't have to wait for me if you don't want to."

"I'm not facing them alone. Mostly because I'll say something off-color and you'll freeze me solid when you find out. I'll go pack, and meet you here."

I sat at my desk and scratched out a few lines for Alistair. I told him about the talking darkspawn, and their new ability to strategize. I also mentioned what they had done to the Legion of the Dead. He had met them as well, and knew how hard wiping all but one of them out would be. Anders returned, pack shouldered and dressed for travel. I noticed he was wearing the bracers I had given him. He stood next to the desk, sneaking glimpses of my letter in progress.

"You fought the blight with the king, right?" I nodded. "Did you ever…"

"With the innocent Chantry boy? Maker, no! He's like a brother, I suppose. Not that I have a brother to compare." I grinned. "Why, jealous?"

"What? No, no, of course not."

I mentioned that we had made a break in the conspirators ourselves, and how they had apparently hired the crows to go after us. That led me to what I should tell him about Zevran.

I paused, trying to think of how to phrase things, as Anders was making no secret of reading over my shoulder, while also skimming Alistair's letter to me from the previous day. Maker help me, I thought. "Tell him he missed his chance," Anders said, now standing behind me to read with more ease.

"Can you see," I mocked. "Should I move over?"

"No, you're fine." He ignored the tone of my voice, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "Also, tell him to let the Crow know about the lightning. You did promise I could shoot lightning at fools."

"I did not!" I protested. "You said you wanted to, and I asked if darkspawn would be close enough." But, I included it in the letter, knowing Alistair would chuckle when he read it, earning a nod from Anders in the process. Once finished I put away my pen and ink, tucking the folded letter into a pocket. "So, lunch?" I asked, jumping to my feet.

Anders tossed me a lecherous grin, planting himself between me and the door. "Why rush?" he asked. That was enough to distract me from food. Our lips met as his arms closed around me and he turned me so my back was against the door. Anders was attempting to work my robes up when someone began knocking. "Andraste's ass," I muttered as we split up, smoothing my robes before I opened the door.

Sigrun was grinning up at me from the other side.

"Didn't want you to miss lunch, too," she said. "Discussing magic must be distracting," she added after taking in my flushed cheeks and disheveled clothes with a wink.

"Thanks," I blushed further. "We were just headed downstairs." Sigrun giggled and headed off towards the stairs.

Thankfully lunch was far less embarrassing than I had worried. Oghren had clapped Anders on the back as he walked by, but that was about it. I managed to slip back into my working mindset between devouring several bowls of lamb stew. I detailed everything we had to do once we reached the woods, and, remembering our spoils from yesterday, confirmed if everyone could ride a horse. Sigrun couldn't, but it turns out that wouldn't matter. I had barely asked before Nathaniel went into great detail about how the area we were headed to would be, at least in part, only navigable by foot. Figures. "I wish we still had griffins," I muttered, not looking forward to more walking.

"We had griffins?" Sigrun asked, confused.

I shouldn't have expected either of them to be up on their surface legends and history. "Not us specifically," I explained. "Wardens used to ride griffins, years ago. It would come in useful."

Sigrun nodded. "That explains… a lot, actually." I looked at her blankly, not sure what needed explanation. "Your robes and office, all the banners, the paintings…"

"What, until now you just thought I had a strange griffin obsession?"

"Pretty much, yes. Now I know that it's just a strange Warden obsession."

"It's not that strange," I protested. "The Wardens are great. I love being a Warden." I shook my head, laughing. "Besides, can you imagine me doing anything else?"

Nathaniel looked dubious. "While it isn't bad, that seems a little excessive. Early death and all?"

"Considering the alternative for me was going to be hanging or Aeonar, the mage prison, absolutely. Even if it hadn't been, I'll take this over life in a cage." His eyes widened and I remembered Nathaniel didn't know how I came to be a Warden. I suspected he'd be asking me soon, though, as would Justice, who was eying me warily from the other end of the table. That will be a fun discussion, I thought.

We began to rise, everyone headed to the main hall. "Skirtboy, a word," Oghren called from behind me. I looked over at Anders and shrugged. Whatever Oghren wanted to say would get said one way or another; keeping him quiet, even sober, was a near impossible task. Better now than in front of a large crowd of people. Anders passed me Ser Pounce-a-lot with a shake of his head.

The two men joined us after a little while, Anders looking slightly pale as they slipped their own packs on. Oghren clapped me on the shoulder, nearly sending me falling forward. "Oghren's got your back," he said. What in the black city was that about, I wondered. I'd have to ask Anders, who was being unusually quiet for him. Later.

I listened to the others chat while Nathaniel fed me directions. He insisted on making me confirm them on the map every time, occasionally trying to make me plot our route and correcting me when I was wrong. After the third time he had to explain what markings were valleys, what were mountains, and what were rivers, he gave up. We made camp quickly that evening, hoping to get our tents up before the darkness made it impossible.

"Let me help you," Anders said as I fought with a tent spike in the dry ground. I gladly relinquished it and stood back. "Funny thing," he said, quickly forcing the canvas sheets to take on the proper shape despite a kitten attempting to scale both him and the tent at the same time. "I thought I packed my tent. I always do. But I checked my pack again and it just isn't there."

"That is funny," I agreed. "Well, my tent is the biggest, so if anyone was going to double up it would only make sense that you share mine."

"You are a giver. It's one of the things I like best about you."

"Just one?" I prodded, grinning.

"Maker, don't start that, it demeans us both."

"Fine," I pouted. "You're no fun."

"I am a good deal of fun," Anders protested, leering at me. "You didn't seem to complain this morning."

"Oh ewww," Sigrun piped up. "I didn't need to hear that."

Anders raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock-innocence and walked over to the fire, checking on whatever Nathaniel had been preparing for dinner. Announcing it was done we all took a seat.

"I was unaware that you are a criminal," Justice said after we had settled in, looking pointedly at me. I coughed. Not one to mince words, apparently, I thought. "It seems the Wardens spared you from punishment. I find myself anxious to know what offense you committed." It wasn't a question, I noticed.

"I don't consider myself a criminal," I argued.

"Few criminals do," Justice countered.

I cast him a withering glance. "I am aware of that. I'm not denying anything I did; I just don't feel my actions were criminal. I thought I was doing the right thing then, and I still do now." I stared into the fire, collecting my thoughts.

"I don't tell this story often, there's only…" I paused counting, "five living people who've heard the real version. The King, his chancellor who got the story from him to distill it into a version appropriate for publicity, a witch of the wilds who traveled with us during the blight, my best friend from the tower, who played a part in it, and Anders" First Enchanter Irving and templars who were present knew a version of it, of course. I suspect Irving believed my version was true, or mostly true, but the templars would never give a mage the benefit of the doubt. Even a barely-templar like Alistair was appalled.

"Sparkle-fingers knows and I don't?" Oghren protested. "What, do you swap stories of being condemned to death as pillow talk? Even I think that's a bit twitchy."

I rolled my eyes. "I knew a Circle mage would understand. But, I know how all of you came to be Wardens so it seems only fair."

This wasn't the official, version, of course. That one, concocted by Arl Eamon after Alistair filled him in on the truth, did mention I was top of my class in Primal magic and specifically recruited by the Wardens as a result. It left out several key facts as blood magic and attempting to break chantry law didn't make for heroic tales. But then, it wasn't the twisted 'Margaret Amell, evil kidnapping blood mage temptress' version the templars passed on to Anders, either, so that's something at least.

To my surprise, no one was particularly scandalized. Nathaniel did confirm, several times, that I honestly had no idea Jowan was a blood mage, but stopped when I pointed out that I had since become one myself and that was beside the point. Even Justice nodded with approval, telling me I had acted with noble intentions. Thank the Maker, I thought briefly. I had been worried he would disapprove, and didn't know if that would involve his challenging me to a fight like Sten had. I had no idea how magic would react with his decaying flesh, and didn't want to find out. If I wasn't mistaken, Sigrun looked at me with a new degree of respect after.

"Here I thought you were Lady Perfect Warden," she laughed.

"A lot of us were criminals in our old lives. The last commander was conscripted before they could hang him for murder in Val Royeaux."

"The Grey Wardens have ever been a haven for criminals and maleficar," Anders said, imitating Ser Rylock's deadpan delivery.

"Now that's just cold," Nathaniel protested, recognizing the line. Oghren laughed, but Sigrun and Justice looked confused.

"Something a templar said to us," I explained. "She thought conscription didn't apply to people she disliked."

"Sadly, now dead," Anders added.

"So we killed her," I said, at the same time. "But she did start the fight," I hastily added.

Once the pot of stew had been devoured and dishes washed Sigrun set about pestering Anders. Revenge for his questions on the Legion and dwarven funerals, I suppose. I still couldn't believe she had briefly convinced him funerals on Orzammar involved an orgy. She was urgently trying to convince him a bush bordering our campsite was, in fact, evil and needed to be destroyed. With magic, obviously.

"Magic isn't for your amusement!" he finally sputtered. "Why don't I just do a little dance? Anders' Spicy Shimmy?"

"Oh, eww. I'll pass," she groaned. "You can save that for Maggie."

I raised a hand, pointing at the bush, and concentrated for a second. Ice leapt from my fingertips to the leaves, coating it in frost. Sigrun applauded. Anders looked over at me and I shrugged. "Like you've never been frivolous with magic."

Slowly everyone drifted to their tents, leaving Anders and I to our watch. "So what did Oghren have to say?" I asked. "Was it the one about tapping the midnight still, or forging the moaning statue?" I laughed to myself, trying to recount his flair for euphemism. "Or donning the velvet hat."

"What?" Anders choked. "Where did you get those?"

"They're all Oghren's. He's got a surprising way with words."

"Apparently. No, I didn't get anything like that." Anders paused, drinking from a mug of tea. "He actually wanted to threaten me."

It was my turn to choke. "What?!"

Anders looked amused. "Our drunken dwarven friend has told me that if I plan to, um… how did he put it… 'toss you aside like a noble at his birthday party,' he would personally crush my 'tiny human skull.'"

"Maker's breath, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"If he wants to take time from drinking and belching to be overprotective of you I can't blame him. It's actually one of his more redeeming qualities. His only redeeming quality, maybe. The smell balances all the others out." I relaxed, glad he wasn't offended. Until that point part of me was wondering if I would be just another conquest, even if I knew how silly that fear was. I wasn't enough of a beauty for a man to spend a month perusing me with no goal beyond a single night, even if I was stuck with that stupid hero title. Being rejected in front of the entirety of the Ferelden Wardens would have been a new and particularly agonizing level of humiliation, though.

"Strange," I said. "Even Oghren told me I should stop worrying and," I tried to remember a proper Oghren-ism, "buck the forbidden horse."

"I don't know if I should be more disturbed by that phrasing, or by you getting advice from Oghren. Advice you apparently followed, no less."

"Well, he has been married. Twice." Remembering his first wife I realized that was a giant, glowing reason to never accept advice from Oghren on anything, ever. Even still, in this group that practically made him an expert on romance.

"Didn't you kill his first wife?"

"Technically, but she was insane."

"You don't actually think that makes it sound more reasonable, do you?" He chuckled. "Although I should be grateful you listened to him."

"You should," I agreed, leaning into him.

Eventually Justice joined us by the fire, signaling the end of our watch. Anders retreated to my tent, but Justice stopped me. "Maggie, do you have a moment?"

"Sure, Justice," I replied, joining him by the fire.

He seemed uncomfortable, although Justice was very difficult to read. I don't think Kristoff's body responded to normal facial muscle ticks like a living one would. Not anymore, at least. "I wonder how just it is that the Wardens aid criminals in escaping punishment." A valid question, I thought. Not an easy one to answer, that's for sure.

"Justice, you've seen old people walking around, right?" He nodded, looking confused. "Well, none of us will ever be one. Wardens get about thirty years to live, and those thirty years are dedicated to fighting darkspawn. I think it's a fair trade." Justice wished me goodnight after promising to think on that. I walked to my tent, but he spoke up before I could enter.

"Maggie, I believe Anders is already using that tent."

"Um… yes, I uh knew that," I stammered, wishing I could avoid whatever inevitable embarrassing end this discussion would have.

"Ah. Shared sleeping quarters, I have memories of that from Kristoff. You and Anders are married? I apologize, I was not aware of this."

"What?" I choked, trying not to laugh. "Um, no, we're not. Mages aren't, um, as formal as most people. Technically we aren't even supposed to get married."

"This is part of your oppression?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Well, it's not forbidden, but it's definitely discouraged. I've never heard of it happening, and I doubt most priests would even perform the service."

"I do not understand how your society accepts the treatment of your kind," he stated in all seriousness, giving me a look that was somewhere near pity. I could only agree and wish him goodnight once more.

Anders was already lying under the blankets. "What was that about?"

I changed into a nightdress while we spoke, aware of Anders watching me intently. "Well, first he was concerned about the wardens harboring the unjust. Took care of that." I stifled a giggle.

"And?"

I picked up my pillow to muffle the laughter, not wanting Justice to hear me. Once I had calmed down I said "well, he pointed out I was walking into a tent you were using. When I told him I knew he," more giggles, "he apologized for not realizing we were married."

Anders' eyes widened. "Married mages? Who ever heard of such a thing!?"

"He's been mortal for a week, he didn't know. Now he just feels bad for us poor, oppressed mages. Well, more so. It is kind of nice to know that the personification of Justice is on our side, even if the Chantry would never care."

"Great. He already expects me to free every mage in Ferelden, now he'll be bugging me about this, too." I snorted and Anders hastily added, "I mean, we haven't exactly known each other that long and-"

"Hey, don't worry about me; I'm of the same mind as you on this."

"I don't know if I should be relieved or insulted."

I rolled my eyes, jumping to kneel next to Anders, clasping his hands in mine. "Oh please, my darling! Won't you make an honest woman out of me? What will become of me now that you have sullied my innocence? What man would have a darkspawn-killing maleficar knowing she has dallied with an apostate?"

"All right, very clever."

Amused, I went on. "Kind ser, please take me for your wife! We can settle on a farm, and I shall provide you with unholy and corrupted heirs!"

"OK, now you're just being creepy."

I climbed under the blankets, curling next to him. "Yeah, I get that sometimes. People say its part of my charm. Well, some people."

He sighed. It was rather like the sound Alistair made whenever I carried a joke a bit too far. Looking over I noticed that his nose was … disturbingly similar to Alistair's, and wondered just how much Good King Maric got around. His brow line wasn't too far off, either, now that I thought of it, although the hair was a bit lighter. They also both twitched one eyebrow up when they were being sarcastic.

Anders snapped me from my bizarre train of thought. "I suppose you can count me among them, then" he said wrapping his arms around me. Thought for another time, I reminded myself, already arching my body against his as Anders ran his hands along my sides.

A/N: I may start going for longer chapters, between 3 and 4000 words, like the last couple have been. Any readers have thoughts on that, good or bad?

As always, I love seeing how many people are reading this. Nice to know I'm not just typing into the void or something. ;)