Hi and thank you to my newest reviewers, EvilValenStrife, elvenlover and jenncgf! Thanks for your kind words!
A massive thank you to those who review regularly: Jen4306, Shakespira, CCBug, Nithu, Kazzyb59, voltagelisa, and Dark-Huntress Moony. You have no idea how much your support means to me!
Thanks and love always to my dear friend Jen for your wonderful editing skills and for keeping me sane during a recent ordeal! ;)
Oh, and CCBug – I was drinking evil revenge tea when I wrote this chapter!
O~~~~~~~~~O
The companions dismantled their camp and set out while it was still dark. The weather was favourable to them this time, and they made good progress along the Imperial Highway. A sombre mood fell on the party as the Circle Tower passed them to the west; and although it remained in their visual field for at least half an hour, Allis and Blythe could not bring themselves to look directly at it. Cullen glanced over, though, if only to admire the sunrise. The forbidding and austere Tower looked almost beautiful against the salmon and golden hues on the horizon, that melted away as the eye travelled upward, giving way to the pale grey expanse of the sky.
They finally reached the point where the Imperial Highway met the North Road to Denerim, and it was time for the companions to part ways. Much hand-shaking and embracing ensued, and there were a few tears from Blythe, and, surprisingly, from Alistair, although he pretended to have grit in his eye.
He and Cullen embraced and slapped each another's shoulders. "Look after her, Sebastian," Alistair said as Blythe approached, "and you look after him!" he chuckled.
"I will," she promised as she looked up at Alistair with tears in her eyes. "I've become so fond of you, Alistair," she said as she embraced him. "Please be careful."
"You too," Alistair replied. "See you soon," he said emphatically, forcing a grin, as he walked away.
Blythe and Allis walked up to one another, and, unable to find words, wrapped their arms around each other. Although they had only been friends for a couple of weeks, they had already forged an unbreakable bond, particularly after their experiences at the Circle Tower. Blythe kissed his cheek and slipped something into one of the pockets in his robe. "For luck," she whispered. "Don't look at it now, or we'll start blubbering!"
"Alright," he said, pulling away from her and taking a deep breath as he looked at her. "Race you back to Redcliffe!" he challenged with a chuckle.
"You're on!" she agreed. "Last one back to Redcliffe has to kiss Reaper, on the mouth, with tongues!"
Allis burst out laughing. "I'll hold you to that, Blythe!" he promised, then looked around for Reaper. The Mabari sat a short distance away, listening intently to Sten, who was crouched down, talking to him. Allis walked over to them. "Sten, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked.
"What is it, Warden?" Sten replied as he straightened up.
Allis led Sten a distance away. "Blythe is the leader of your group, Sten," Allis reminded him.
"I am aware of that, Warden," he replied.
"I want to make something very clear," Allis warned. "If I hear that you have threatened her, drawn your sword against her, or harmed one hair on her head, the Fade itself will not be big enough for you to hide in," he stated menacingly. "Do you understand me?"
"Completely, Warden," Sten replied, "although I may not agree with some of her decisions, and if that is the case, I shall not remain silent."
"Good," Allis nodded. "You should speak your mind; in fact, Blythe will probably ask for your opinions. But, if you do disagree with any of her decisions, you will not threaten or challenge her."
"I understand," Sten replied.
"Good luck to you on your travels, Sten," Allis said, offering his hand. Sten shook it, and nodded curtly, before turning and heading towards Blythe and the others in his group.
Cullen, Anders and Zevran stood huddled in a tight circle. Blythe watched them intently, but couldn't make out what was being said. "Now, remember what we told you, Cullen," Anders whispered. "Especially about 'the magic button.' You can forget the rest, but not that!"
Cullen laughed and turned crimson. "I won't," he promised, shaking his head. Before they finally parted, Zevran ran up to Cullen and whispered something in his ear. Cullen laughed again, as did Zevran, as he ran back to his group.
"What did you whisper to him?" Anders asked as they started their journey along the North Road. Noticing that Allis and Alistair's ears were twitching, he beckoned Anders to lean down, and whispered in the mage's ear.
"Oh, that!" Anders exclaimed with a huge grin. "I forgot about that!" The two of them burst out laughing as Allis and Alistair exchanged puzzled glances.
~O~
It took four days for Allis' group to reach Denerim; they had made camp for short periods only and pressed on during the night, spurred on by the thought of sleeping in a warm bed at one of the City's many inns. They encountered two disorganised groups of bandits along the North Road who posed them little trouble.
They drew many stares and gasps as they entered the City, as all of them – with the exception of Anders - were caked in dried blood. Anders glanced around nervously as they passed the Chantry; although he was now masquerading as a Grey Warden – at least as far as the Chantry was concerned - he wouldn't put anything past the Templars.
They passed a harried-looking Guard Sergeant and watched with amusement as he berated two thick-looking soldiers and sent them packing, delivering a swift kick to one of their backsides as they left.
"Excuse me, Sergeant," Allis said politely, intending to ask him where Brother Genitivi's house was located.
"Good day, Wardens," he replied. "How may I assist you?"
"Wait…you know who we are?" asked Alistair, glancing around.
"Yes," the Sergeant replied. "A likeness of the two of you was passed around amongst the men. I have orders to take you into custody."
Seeing that the Sergeant was making no moves to arrest them, Allis spoke carefully. "I mean no disrespect, Sergeant," he said, "but we will resist any attempts to arrest us."
"Yes, yes," the Sergeant replied, exasperated. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, and walked over to an approaching soldier, yelled at him and cuffed him around the ear. The four men exchanged glances as he returned.
"Kylon's the name," he said, "and I have no intention of arresting two Grey Wardens." He lowered his voice a little. "Not all of us believe Teyrn Loghain's claims about your Order," he whispered as he looked around. "Besides which, I have enough on my plate with these illegitimate whelps I'm supposed to turn into soldiers. Just keep the peace while you're here. That's all I ask."
"Thank you kindly, Sergeant," Allis replied gratefully, and asked directions to Brother Genitivi's house, and if Kylon knew of any paid work going in Denerim, as they were in need of money.
"Well, there's always the Chanter's board," Kylon replied, moving a little closer to Allis and lowering his voice again. "Actually, there are a few matters I need taken care of," he intoned, "which would be far too dangerous for my lily-livered boys to deal with," he said wearily. "If you're willing, I would reward you for your trouble. You fellows look like you can handle yourselves."
Allis quickly looked at his companions, who all nodded in approval, before turning back to Kylon. "Sign us up Sergeant!" he grinned. "What do you need us to do?"
"Thank you," Kylon replied. "There's a whorehouse in the city by the name of The Pearl. A band of mercenaries have moved in and are causing trouble and refusing to leave. Sanga, the Proprietor, would like the louts drummed out of there. You can rough them up a bit, if necessary," he warned, "but no killing. Let me make that absolutely clear."
Before Allis could reply, Anders piped up. "Oh, I think we can take care of that, don't you Zev?" he said to the assassin, who nodded enthusiastically. "Meet you back here later, say, at the Gnawed Noble?" Anders said to Allis as he and Zev walked away.
"Wait!" Kylon exclaimed. "You will need directions!"
"Oh, it's alright," Anders replied. "I, erm…I have an idea of where it might be."
"It's very generous of you to do this, Anders, I must say!" Allis called after them, suppressing a laugh.
"What can I say? I'm just that kind of a guy," Anders chirped back. "Anything to help the community!" he laughed as he and Zev raced one another to the City gates.
Taking their leave of Kylon, Allis and Alistair followed his directions to Genitivi's house.
"Wait," Alistair said suddenly, placing his hand on Allis' arm. "That house over there," he said, pointing toward a run-down shack next to a shop named Wade's Emporium. "That's…my sister's house," he said quietly. "I'm sure of it."
"Really?" Allis replied, watching Alistair carefully. "Do you want to go and see her?"
"Can we?" he asked nervously. "Wait, though…do we have time? I-I don't think we have the time…" he stammered. "We-we have a lot to do after all, a-and we have to see Genitivi…"
"Oh, no you don't!" Allis laughed, grabbing Alistair's arm and pulling him toward the house. "Wait…where's Reaper?"
They looked around and laughed to see Reaper playfully chasing some young lads in the market square. "Reaper!" Allis called, "no rough play!" Reaper barked in acknowledgement, and started running as the boys chased him. The two of them were still laughing as they approached Goldanna's house and stood outside.
"Will you come in with me, Allis?" Alistair asked nervously.
"Just try and stop me!" Allis replied, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Will she know who I am?" Alistair pondered. "Does she even know I exist? It sounds very strange, doesn't it?" he rambled. "Sister. Siiiissss-tar. Ooh, I'm all nervous now…come on, let's go. No, yes…let's just go."
"Alistair," Allis said firmly with a small smirk on his lips. "I though we had no time to spare? Just stop the rambling and get in the damned house!" he laughed, although he, too was actually very nervous for Alistair.
~O~
Zevran and Anders entered the Pearl and were greeted by Sanga, the Proprietor. "Ah, you're Kylon's boys, are you?" she asked. When Zevran nodded, she pointed over toward a group of rowdy drunks. "They call themselves the White Falcons," she sighed. "This is a quality establishment, and they're lowering the tone of the place. And," she added, "they're not using the services we provide. I'd be very grateful if you could show them the door."
"It will be done, Madame Sanga ," Zevran replied, he and Anders walking over to the mercenaries.
"What's all this then?" a drunken lout slurred as they approached.
"You're not wanted here," Zevran said haughtily. "Vacate the premises immediately."
The White Falcons laughed at this. "Will you listen to this knife-ear, trying to order us around?" one of them said between hiccups.
"Madame Sanga wants people of quality in here," Zevran replied. "Not riff-raff."
"Riff-raff is it?" their leader replied, swaying as he walked over to them. "We don't take orders from uppity elves!"
"You will do as he says," Anders said firmly, looking the man directly in the eyes. "Won't you?"
"Erm, yes…I suppose I could…" the leader mumbled.
"Hoy!" one of the drunkards called from the back. "What did you say to him?"
Anders stood closer to the leader and whispered into his ear, pointing to one of his fellow Falcons. The leader walked over to his comrade and put his hands on the man's shoulders.
"W-what are you doing, Davis?" the mercenary asked nervously, trying to back away.
"I've always fancied you, you know, Benjamin," Davis whispered lustily and leaned down for a kiss as Zev and Anders howled with laughter.
Benjamin ducked and ran to the other side of the room, terrified and humiliated. "What have you done to him?" he shrieked.
"Oh, just a little mind control," Anders said casually, chuckling at Zevran, who was doubled over with laughter. "And I can do a lot worse, you know," he threatened. "I could have you lot tearing each other's clothes off in seconds, and…doing things to each other."
Like magic, the White Falcons hurried towards the exit, some of them shielding their eyes from Anders' hypnotic gaze. As they left, the hapless Davis was still professing his ardour for Benjamin, and a fist fight ensued outside. Sanga firmly closed the door, washing her hands of the White Falcons. "What they do outside is their business," she smirked. "Now, boys, how can I thank you?"
"How about a freebie for my friend and I?" Anders asked cheekily, winking at Zev, who was wiping tears from his eyes.
"I suppose it's the least I can do," Sanga replied. "I happen to have two girls available now, if that's what you want?"
"I don't really mind," Anders said, pointedly making his preferences know to Zev.
"And neither do I," Zev replied, with a crafty glance at the mage.
"Carrie, Isabelle," Sanga called, and two lovely young ladies appeared from an anteroom. "We have two gentlemen here who would like to become acquainted with you." The two girls, upon seeing the handsome mage and elf, started giggling and clasped each other's hands in congratulations.
Before Zevran and Anders could choose, the entrance door opened and a repulsive, fat, sweaty man entered, carrying a bag. One of the girls' eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no…" she moaned.
"Carrie," Sanga called over. "Mr. Douglas is here, and he's asking for you," she said, beckoning the girl over.
"But-but what about the other two?" she pleaded.
"They're not paying customers," Sanga whispered. "Mr Douglas is, and he's brought his 'bag of tricks' with him. That means we can charge extra."
"Hello, my dear," Mr, Douglas leered, drooling as he revealed a row of broken, yellow teeth.
"Hello, my darling," Carrie greeted him as convincingly as she could. "Please, follow me…"
As Carrie and Mr. Douglas passed by, Zevran and Anders wrinkled their noses in disgust. Zevran brought out a handkerchief and placed it over his nose and mouth. "He does know there is an invention called soap, doesn't he?" Anders remarked.
"Well," said Sanga. "That just leaves my Isabelle. You'll have to decide between yourselves who goes with her. My next girl will be ready in about 10 minutes."
"I don't mind waiting," Anders said, "but neither do I mind becoming acquainted with the lovely Isabelle, either."
"Hmm," Zevran replied. "It would seem we are at an impasse, my friend, as I am of the same mind."
A sly glint came into Anders' eyes. "Well," he muttered. "We could always share, I suppose…"
"Share?" Zevran replied, looking sideways at Anders. "Well, I'm game, so long as Isabelle has no objections?"
"Objections?" she exclaimed, her eyes bulging. "You must be joking…quick!" she said excitedly as she grabbed their hands. "Come with me, before another customer comes in!"
~O~
The progress of Blythe's party had not been as straightforward as that of her fellow Wardens. They had reached Gherlen's Pass, a rudimentary path that led up the side of a mountain, leading to Orzammar. The conditions were harsh and the path treacherous; the higher they ascended, the steeper it became, and even Morrigan and Blythe's fire only melted the ice on the path for a few seconds before it began to re-crystallise.
Eventually they had to stop as heavy snow had begun to fall, and visibility was poor. Sten was even showing signs of fatigue, although he refused Blythe's offer to Rejuvenate him.
They found a cave to take shelter in, and after Cullen and Sten had scouted it and determined there were no creatures within, they decided to spend the night there. They pitched their tents, using rocks to hold them in place. Cullen and Blythe made no pretence that they would be sleeping in separate tents, as it was bitterly cold. Having nothing to use as fuel for a fire, Morrigan and Blythe cast fire upon the cave walls, raising the temperature slightly for a while. They were all very grateful for the warm clothing Teagan had gifted them, although they still shivered even while wearing them. It was going to be a hard night.
They ate dried rations for supper as they had no fire with which to cook; Blythe created some ice in one of their pots, then melted and boiled it for tea and coffee. For once, they agreed that a watch was not necessary as they were unlikely to be attacked by anything so high up in the mountains. They had not seen a single living creature along Gherlen's Pass, and they were all exhausted. As a precautionary measure, however, Blythe placed wards at the entrance of the cave.
Bidding everyone goodnight, Blythe clasped Cullen's hand and started leading him toward their tent. "Playtime," she whispered mischievously.
"Does your pet Templar require rest?" called Morrigan.
Blythe laughed. "Yes…rest," she replied cunningly, as Cullen turned blood red and quickened his pace.
They clambered inside the tent, Blythe still chuckling. Blythe touched the tent and their bedrolls, instantly warming them up. Cullen sat back on his heels. The tent was in darkness but Blythe could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. "She knows what we're up to!" he whispered nervously.
Blythe knelt down in front of him. "I think it's pretty obvious to everyone," she said with laughter in her voice, "but I don't care if you don't!" She reached out in the darkness to touch his burning face. Cullen felt her cold hands against his skin as she slowly dragged them through his hair and down the nape of his neck.
"Oh…" he grunted as a delicious shiver ran down his back, his embarrassment quickly forgotten.
Blythe scooted nearer and kept her hands, which had returned to their normal temperature, around his neck. "Is that better, my 'pet Templar?'" she teased.
Cullen, now more relaxed, chuckled quietly. "I hope that's not going to be my nickname from now on!" he protested.
"Oh, most definitely," Blythe jested. "I like it!"
Cullen groaned. "Well, in that case," he said, moving a little closer to Blythe, "I shall have to think of a name for you."
"Mmm," Blythe intoned, feeling Cullen's warm breath next to her mouth.
"How about… 'my forbidden mage'," he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. Blythe closed her eyes and gulped as saliva flooded her mouth. She felt one of Cullen's hands on her hip; his other clasped the back of her head and pulled her closer; his tongue gently teasing hers. With the tent in absolute darkness, she couldn't be sure if her eyes were closed or not, and she felt dizzy and disoriented. She thought that he was kissing her, but wasn't really sure of anything, as she felt giddiness and overwhelming heaviness pulling her down to the ground.
Then, Cullen's inarticulate cry roused her, and she realised she was on the ground, with him on top of her, and he was kissing her, deeply and hungrily. She felt like her lungs were about to burst and broke away, panting. He laughed and kissed her on the cheek, stroking the nape of her neck with his hand.
"Where did you learn to kiss like that?" she gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Didn't you know?" he joked, "it's required reading at the Chantry." Blythe laughed huskily and playfully punched his arm.
"I've been thinking about 'playtime' all day, you know," Cullen murmured, his words vibrating against her skin as he kissed her throat, taking her hand and meshing their fingers together.
"Tell me," she whispered seductively, gently stroking his hair with her other hand.
Cullen drew himself up a little, bringing his face level with hers, close enough for their lips to barely touch. "I couldn't possibly repeat that in front of a lady," he teased.
"Then show me," she pleaded. "Please, Cullen…"
"Sebastian," he chuckled.
"Sorry," she mumbled, her breathing heavy and irregular. "I can't think straight."
Cullen pushed himself up onto his knees and took her hands, pulling her up into a sitting position. "Sit up on your knees," he commanded softly.
Blythe complied with his request, imagining the conversation that must have taken place in Zev's tent, and said a silent 'thank you' to the assassin. Cullen moved behind her, and, taking the hem of her robe in his hands, started to pull it up, his hands making contact with her legs as he travelled upwards, sending shivers of anticipation through them both. He reached the soft flesh of her hips and paused for a moment, moving one hand to her belly, his breathing becoming more rapid as he blazed kisses down the back of her neck and pushed himself against her, making his arousal obvious to her. Blythe whimpered and raised her arms, inviting him to remove her robe; he did so slowly, skimming her breasts as his hands travelled further upwards.
Her robe fluttered to the ground, and Blythe brought her arms back down, taking Cullen's hands as they wrapped around her waist. He leaned close to her ear and whispered words of love to her; Blythe knew that they came from his own heart, and were not something he had learned from Zevran or Anders. He stopped for a moment and leaned back a little, bringing his hands onto her shoulders, softly tracing her outline. He could see her in the darkness; her skin had taken on a faint phosphorescence, and his own skin vibrated as he felt arcane energy flow from her.
His hands moving with his eyes, he took in the graceful curve of her neck, her slender shoulders; the gentle tapering of her hips from her waist. He had never seen a more glorious sight, and his eyes feasted on her as he stroked her with the back of his hand. Blythe moved around to face him, and looked him directly in the eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down his shoulders. Cullen removed it at the cuffs and discarded it, placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly, achingly slowly, moved them down her body. Finding her breasts, he teased her nipples with his fingers, feeling them harden at his touch. Blythe rested her elbows on his shoulders, her head thrown back with abandon as his lips met her throat.
"Kiss me…" she pleaded softly. He raised his head and sought her lips, but she shook her head and gently pushed him downwards. He growled and craned his neck, raining gossamer kisses down to her breasts as he kneaded them with his hands. Blythe shifted slightly, positioning her nipple next to his mouth. "Kiss me, please," she beseeched, her voice low and breathless. Cullen's heart beat a savage rhythm in his chest as he took her into his mouth and they moaned together as she clutched his head and pushed herself against him. He withdrew suddenly as her hand sought his hardness through his breeches.
"Please, let me touch you," she whispered, desperation in her voice, as she moved closer.
"I can't, Blythe," he said sadly. "Not yet. I'm sorry."
"But why?" she asked breathlessly.
"If you touch me there, I'm afraid I'll lose control of myself," he explained.
"And what's wrong with that?" she asked gently.
He took her hands. "I don't want our first time to be in a tent, Blythe," he said softly. "I want it to be special."
"It will be," she promised, "wherever it happens…"
"I've thought of it so many times," he said, exhaling deeply, "of…you and I, being together. I don't want it to be here, with all of these people around us."
"So where were we when you thought of us?" she asked enthusiastically.
"Under the stars…" he replied fondly, "…or in a lake, or on soft grass with the breeze against our skin…or just in a nice warm bed, in complete seclusion and privacy."
"You're determined to torture me, aren't you?" she chuckled. "But I'll respect your wishes," she added, "so long as we can still play together."
Cullen grinned and nodded his head. "Of course we can," he replied. "I'm sorry, Blythe," he said quietly. "You must think me a fool."
"No, you're not a fool," she insisted. "You're a gentleman, and I love you for it."
"Blythe?" he asked quietly, "did you just say you love me?"
"Yes," she replied, softly kissing his lips.
She released one of his hands and laid down on the bedroll, gently pulling him down beside her. "Perhaps there is a way we can help each other," she offered.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
She moved one of his hands down to his breeches and pushed it inside. "Touch yourself," she whispered as she slipped her own hand inside her smallclothes, "as you watch me. And you may touch me wherever you like."
~O~
Alistair and Allis left Goldanna's house and stood outside, staring at the ground. Reaper ran up to them happily, then cocked his head and sat quietly as he realised that something was amiss.
"Well, that didn't go as expected," Alistair mumbled, a heavy frown marring his handsome features. "I suppose I was expecting her to welcome me with open arms, I mean, isn't that what families do?" he said, looking at Allis for an answer the mage didn't have. "What a naïve fool I am…" he whispered.
"You don't need her," Allis uttered, struggling to keep his anger in check. "There are others who care for you."
"Really, Allis?" Alistair said sarcastically, immediately regretting his sharpness but feeling the need to vent his feelings. "I'm a bastard. My father had nothing to do with me, my mother's dead – at my hands, according to Goldanna – even Eamon gave up on me. I have no one!"
"You have me, for what it's worth," Allis replied sadly. "I care for you, and so does Blythe. We think the world of you…and I…well…I…" he fell silent, afraid to speak the words that sat on the tip of his tongue.
"I know, Allis," Alistair whispered, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you."
"There's no need to apologise, Alistair," Allis said soothingly, holding his hand. "Come on," he said, "let's speak to Genitivi, round those two rascals up and get out of here."
Alistair nodded and the two of them began walking, with Reaper close behind. "Alistair?" Allis said quietly. "I'll never give up on you. I promise."
A small smile crept onto Alistair's lips as he looked at Allis. "You know, for some reason I believe you," he replied.
Allis stopped dead and stared straight ahead. "What's wrong?" Alistair asked.
"That gate there…" Allis replied. "Is that…what I think it is?"
"Oh, Maker's Breath!" Alistair exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, Allis, I completely forgot. Yes, that is Denerim's Alienage."
Allis stared blankly at the gate to his childhood home. "I wonder if any of my family are in there?" he said quietly.
Alistair put his arm around Allis' shoulders. "Would you recognise any of them?" he said gently. "You said you couldn't remember what they looked like."
Allis closed his eyes for a moment, his face a grim mask. "Actually, I do know what they look like," he replied with bitterness in his voice. "In perfect detail."
"But how?" Alistair asked.
"I never told you about my Fade dream, did I?" he said wearily. Alistair remained silent and let him speak.
"I was back at home, with my mother and father. The demon must have dug deeply to reach those memories. I had a brother and sister. My father and brother looked like me. It was perfect. We were one big happy family. I was no longer a mage, and the Templars never came for me." He fell silent for a moment.
"I don't know what made me realise it wasn't real," he continued. "I just got the feeling that although they were my family, I didn't know any of them. It felt wrong to me. I started asking questions, and eventually the demon lost patience and manifested itself."
"Thank the Maker you realised," Alistair said quietly.
"I very nearly stayed, though, Alistair," he replied. "I was so close to staying."
They noticed a sign nailed to the wall outside the Alienage, forbidding entry. They looked at one another and walked over to a guard stationed next to the gate.
"No entry!" he exclaimed, holding his hands up.
"But I'm from the Alienage!" Allis protested.
"I don't care if you're the Maker," the guard replied. "Nobody is to enter here, orders of Teyrn Loghain."
"Loghain?" Alistair cried. "What does he have to do with this?"
"It's for everyone's benefit," the guard explained. "After the riots, the Alienage was sealed off…"
"Riots?" Allis asked, clearly upset. "What happened?"
"One of them knife…I beg your pardon, one of them elves murdered the Arl of Denerim's son, he did," the guard replied. "Arl Howe sent his soldiers in to maintain order. The elves didn't take too kindly to it. Now no one is allowed in or out."
"But what about food? Supplies?" Allis asked.
The guard shook his head. "The Teyrn has washed his hands of them," he replied. "You'd best stay out of it. Safer for all concerned."
"I demand you let us in!" Allis cried, grasping his staff. "My family is in there!"
"Look around you," the guard replied, unconcerned. Alistair and Allis looked to the top of the City walls, where several archers had their bows trained on them. "But try your luck if you like," the guard said. "One more dead elf won't make a difference."
Alistair dragged Allis away by his arm. "I can't just do nothing, Alistair!" Allis said with panic in his voice.
"Shh," Alistair whispered, leading him away. "There must be another way in to the Alienage," he muttered. "We'll stay in Denerim for a while longer, and see what we can find out. Alright?"
"Alright," Allis replied, breathing heavily. "Thank you." He reached into his pocket and retrieved the rabbit's foot Blythe had slipped in when they parted company. Let's hope you work, he thought to himself.