Sorry it's been so long since the last update, I've been working on another story. **Shameless self-promotion alert** if you would like to see a darker side to Cullen, I've published a new story called 'The Enemy Within,' which tells the tale of how Cullen was left deeply disturbed after Uldred's revolt at the Tower.

Thank you Jen as always, for being an excellent Beta, and for being my cheerleader and 'worry wart' lol :D

~O~

The Denerim guard detail changed shifts at 8pm. The night patrol came on duty and settled into their usual routine. More guards had been drafted in recently, since the trouble in the Alienage, and, as a result, many of those patrolling the city walls stood idle, as there was very little activity in the Alienage and the Market District at night.

Two men patrolling the walls overlooking the gates to the Alienage stood chatting. They'd been on duty for half an hour and already the conversation had started to deteriorate.

"So, what would you do if you saw one of them Archdemons, then?" a guard named Mervyn asked his colleague, Edwin.

"One of them?" Edwin replied. "How many are there, then?"

"I dunno," Mervyn shrugged. "I think one would be enough. What would you do?"

"Well, shit my smallclothes and cower on the floor, I expect," Edwin replied. "Why?" he snorted. "What would you do, then?"

"I don't believe they exist," Mervyn scoffed. "I think it's something they made up to scare the children."

A ginger tomcat jumped down from the wall and approached the men, rubbing his head against Edwin's legs. "Aw, 'ello kitty," Edwin cooed, reaching into his pack for some food. "Want a bit of my pork pie, do you?" he said to the cat as he took a morsel out of his pack and crouched down. The cat took the proffered food gratefully.

"They're crafty buggers, these cats," he said with his back to Mervyn. "I bet he's been fed a dozen times already today." When no reply came, Edwin turned around. Mervyn lay flat on his back, snoring loudly.

"'Ere!" Edwin whispered, as he rose to his feet and walked over to Mervyn. "If the Captain catches you drunk on duty again, you'll be for it!" He leaned down and shook his fellow soldier roughly by the shoulders. "Wake up!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Edwin, distracted by Mervyn and the cat, failed to see the movement in the shadows behind him, and gave out a muffled cry as a wet handkerchief was pressed firmly over his nose and mouth. He struggled briefly before succumbing, and collapsed, snoring, on top of Mervyn.

The mysterious assailant melted back into the shadows, as did the cat, who followed close behind.

~O~

Alistair, Allis and Anders sat in the Gnawed Noble tavern, eating and drinking quietly at a table near the bar. Anders cleared his plate, sat back with a sigh, and belched loudly. Alistair and Allis were still going. They were now on their third plate of food, and had been eating for 25 minutes solid, uninterrupted by unnecessary conversation. Reaper sat attentively next to their table, his eyes following every piece of food as it travelled from plate to mouth. Occasionally, he was rewarded for his persistence with a scrap from the table, and he barked joyfully as Anders tossed his mutton bone to the floor.

The doors to the tavern were thrust open as three city guards entered. Two of them were outfitted in standard iron chainmail and helms. The third was obviously a high-ranking officer; he wore a high quality suit of Veridium, and donned a red and black cape. One of the lower-ranking men stared at Allis as they approached the bar; Allis recognised him as the guard who had stopped him from entering the Alienage earlier.

Allis and Alistair sat facing away from the bar. "Tell me what they're doing, Anders," Allis whispered, "but don't make it obvious you're watching them."

Anders stretched his arms nonchalantly and feigned a yawn. "They're talking to the barkeep and looking over here," he mumbled. "Oh, yes," he said quietly. "They're definitely interested in us."

The finely-attired guard approached their table and spoke. "Please, forgive the intrusion, gentlemen," he said politely. "I am Seward, Captain of the Denerim guard. Might I ask of your movements this evening?"

"Well," Anders said dryly, patting his belly. "I haven't had a movement so far this evening, but I think after that meal, one may be imminent," he deadpanned.

Allis and Alistair sniggered. "You may ask, Captain," Allis replied, still chuckling. "We have nothing to hide. We have been here since sundown."

"Indeed," Seward nodded. "The Barkeep seems to confirm your story."

"Is something amiss, Captain?" Allis asked innocently as the other two guards approached.

"One of my men, Fulton, reported to me that you were quite eager to enter the Alienage earlier today," Seward replied, "and tonight, several of my guards patrolling the Alienage walls were found fast asleep."

"Perhaps you should give them more interesting duties, then," Alistair remarked as he crammed a slab of gravy-soaked bread into his mouth.

"Perhaps," Seward replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"What, you think I put them to sleep?" Allis asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well, you are a mage," Fulton retorted from behind Seward.

"I am indeed, Ser," Allis replied with feigned indignation, "but I am not so powerful I could send a legion of men to sleep from within here!"

"Are there no Templars in Denerim?" Anders asked. "Surely they could tell you whether or not magic had been used?"

"A Templar has already confirmed that magic was not employed," Seward replied.

"Well, then?" Allis asked with annoyance, shrugging his shoulders.

Seward glanced silently at all three men, his expression pensive. "Perhaps I should give you the benefit of the doubt," he said cautiously.

"No!" Fulton objected with a wave of his hand. "I don't believe him! He threatened me earlier, he did!"

"That's enough out of you," Seward scolded. "Sergeant Kylon spoke highly of these men, and I think we have disturbed them enough for one evening. My apologies, gentlemen," Seward said, "We shall take our leave of…"

"You mangy cur!" Fulton interrupted. The three men at the table fell about laughing as Reaper relieved himself against the guard's leg. "I'll teach you some manners!" Fulton cried, unsheathing a dagger. The three men were immediately on their feet, and a Longsword was pressed against Fulton's windpipe before he had time to blink.

"I wouldn't," Alistair threatened, his eyes flashing with intent.

"Any trouble, take it outside!" shouted the Barkeep.

"Gentlemen," Seward said as he stepped between Alistair and Fulton, pushing Alistair's sword away. "I can see you are not to be trifled with. Forgive us for interrupting your meal." With that, he turned and walked toward the exit, followed by his two men. Fulton cursed and shook his leg a few times on the way out.

"Good boy!" Allis laughed, ruffling the Mabari's head as they sat down. Reaper barked happily and resumed gnawing his mutton bone.

"Do you think he believed us?" Alistair mumbled.

"Does it matter?" Anders said indifferently. "He doesn't have any proof, does he?" he shrugged as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to have that movement, now, and if that Captain comes back, tell him I'll fill him in when I return."

~O~

Later that night, the three men sat around a table in Anders' room, playing card games. Occasionally they looked over to the door; Reaper lay next to it, his head cocked and his ears pricking up as he listened intently. His tail started to wag and he whined as he sprang to his feet, snuffling at the foot of the door.

A figure clad from head to toe in black entered, followed by a ginger cat. "Oh!" he exclaimed as he pulled off his hood. "All of that sweating will play havoc with my complexion!"

"Are you alright, Zevran?" Allis asked with concern as Anders fussed over Mr. Wiggums. "Did anyone give you trouble?"

"Trouble?" laughed Zevran. "You jest with me! I find it truly astonishing that the Capital City of Ferelden is defended by such witless oafs." He sat at the table and helped himself to some food that had been saved for him, returning a half-empty bottle of sleeping draught to Anders. Allis waited patiently for Zevran to finish, although he was desperate to know what he had discovered. Sensing this, Zevran stopped eating and turned to face the mage.

"I bring tidings," Zevran muttered, "none of which are good, my friend," he murmured, shaking his head sadly.

"Tell me," Allis demanded, bracing himself for the worst. Zev sighed and hung his head. "Come, on, Zevran!" Allis said impatiently.

"The Alienage is a wreck," Zev said quietly. "There have been several severe fires there, and many of the homes are uninhabitable." He didn't mention the untended corpses scattered throughout the area. "Some kind of hospital has been set up there," he continued, "but it is not for the wounded, I think. I heard mention of a 'plague' of some kind."

"A plague?" Allis asked sceptically. "Well, they couldn't hope to contain a plague just by closing the gates, could they?"

"And why didn't the guard at the gate mention that?" Alistair added. "He told us that the elves rioted after Arl Howe's men were sent in. There was no mention of a plague."

"Perhaps the guard was not informed of the plague?" Zevran suggested. "Would you stand guard where you were at risk of disease?"

Allis shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose not," he mumbled. Alistair placed a comforting hand on his back.

"Did you see any healers at the hospital?" Anders asked.

"Ah – I am coming to this," Zevran replied. "I saw several mages standing outside; whether they were healers or not, I do not know. However," he added, "they seemed more like guards to me, from the way they stood and watched."

"What about the Templars?" Alistair asked.

"Now this is the curious thing," Zev said with a frown. "From what I have gleaned from my handsome friend here," he said, gesturing to a grinning Anders, "any mage who leaves the Circle Tower either has a Templar accompanying them…"

"Several Templars," Anders interrupted.

"Si," Zev conceded with a shrug. "Or else, they are deemed an apostate," he continued. "But I did not see one Templar in attendance; in fact, it seemed to me that the mages were in charge."

"That doesn't sound right," Alistair muttered as Anders and Allis frowned in agreement.

"Also," Zev added, "the mages were…unusual."

"Unusual? In what way?" Allis asked.

"Well, they were different from you two, for a start," he replied. "They spoke in a very archaic fashion – even more so than the witch, Morrigan. Their robes were, well, strange; all dark blue and very heavily built up in the shoulders, with a long cloak behind. And," he added, "they wore strange headpieces – very long and tall, with a device embossed in silver at the front."

"Was it an open palm with a snake wrapped around it?" Alistair asked with narrowed eyes.

"Si, it was!" Zev exclaimed. "How did you…"

"Tevinters," Alistair concluded, shaking his head.

"Tevinters?" Allis asked doubtfully. "In Ferelden? How could they possibly hope to hide from the Templars?"

"I know," Anders agreed. "The Templars would have a field day if they knew they were here."

"Well, this is another thing," Zev said. "I am of the opinion that they have been allowed in. I, er…I think you shall find this news unsettling, my friend," he said to Allis. "I followed the city walls around the back alleys of the Alienage. There was a large warehouse there, and…" he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I saw several elves being taken out of the warehouse in shackles, and marched northward."

"What?" Allis mumbled, confused. "But that doesn't make any sense…especially if they had this 'plague.'"

"There is no plague, is there?" Alistair said shrewdly.

"I don't understand…" Allis said quietly, his voice trailing off.

Zevran made a gesture to Anders, nodding his head toward the door. "I think I'd better let Mr. Wiggums out for a wee," Anders said, standing up and heading to the door with his cat. "Are you coming, Reaper?" he asked. The Mabari grunted and sat on his haunches.

"Oh, fair enough, then," said Anders as he and Zevran headed for the door.

"Thank you," Allis said quietly to Zevran. "Really, I mean it."

Zevran waved his hand dismissively and he and Anders exited, closing the door behind them.

~O~

As Zevran and Anders waited patiently for Mr. Wiggums to do his business, they looked at a house across the way. The lights were still on inside, despite the fact it was well after midnight.

"Isn't that Genitivi's house?" Anders wondered, "that scholar we have to go and see about the ashes?"

"Hm, I think so," Zevran replied. "Alistair said he lived opposite the tavern."

"Well, he's still up," said Anders. "Shall we go and pay him a visit, save those two from doing it?"

"Why not?" Zevran replied unenthusiastically. "I can think of nothing more exciting than hearing of the charred remains of an old woman."

"You don't think this will work, do you?" Anders asked as they walked over to the house.

Zevran sighed. "No, I do not," he replied. "I think it is a waste of time. And I am eager to use my blades. I fear I shall become rusty if I do not stab something soon!"

"So long as you don't use them on me!" Anders cried with mock horror. "And be careful what you wish for," he warned. "Sometimes things have a way of surprising you."

As they neared the house, they noticed that the front door was ajar. They exchanged a quick glance before Anders hesitantly pushed the door open. "Hello?" he called.

~O~

Blythe's party had at last been blessed with some favourable weather, and finally neared the summit of Gherlen's Pass. They came across a small market of sorts; several dwarves and a few Fereldans called out to the new arrivals, impressed by their fancy attire, and thinking them rich.

"Hoy!" called a shifty-looking Fereldan who beckoned them over. "The name's Faryn. Come and see my wares," he said proudly, with a bow. "New and nearly new stock. Weapons, armour and curiosities, all for your viewing pleasure."

"Well," Blythe said thoughtfully, "Leliana needs some arrows, and Sten could use a new sword. Have you any two handed swords heavy enough for a Qunari to wield?"

"Well, I have a couple," Faryn replied. "It's a real shame, though," he shrugged. "Just last week I sold a magnificent sword that once belonged to a Qunari."

"How did you come by this sword?" Sten asked sharply, suddenly taking a keen interest.

"Well," Faryn whispered, "don't tell no one, but I found it, see? Next to Lake Calenhad."

Faryn was suddenly lifted a foot into the air as Sten grabbed his collar. "Where is my sword!" he bellowed fiercely.

"Please!" Faryn cried, clearly terrified. "I swear to you, I don't have it no more! I sold it to this fella from Redcliffe! I swear by Andraste's knickers!"

"What was his name?" Blythe asked, gesturing for Sten to put the man down. Sten reluctantly complied, but continued to glower at Faryn.

"'E was a dwarf, by the name of Dwynn," Faryn replied, backing away from Sten.

"Dwynn?" Blythe murmured. "I know him. He helped us to defend Redcliffe. We had to pay him, though. He still lives." She turned to Sten. "When we return to Redcliffe, Sten, we will find your sword. I promise."

Sten seemed doubtful. "That may be an empty promise, Warden," he replied with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "But I thank you for the gesture, nonetheless."

"Why does the sword mean so much to you, anyway?" Blythe asked curiously. Although she liked Sten, she knew little of him. "If you don't mind me asking, that is?" she added cautiously.

Sten took her to one side as the others perused the stalls. A sudden exclamation from Blythe made them turn around. "That's terrible, Sten!" she cried in horror, backing away from him. Sten hung his head shamefully and murmured something the others couldn't hear. He had told her that he and his brothers had been attacked by darkspawn, leaving him as the only survivor. He was rescued by a farmer, whose family took him in. When he realised his sword was missing, he had slain the entire family in his grief and panic.

"My honour is forfeit," Sten said sadly. "I hope to seek atonement by ending the Blight with you and the other Wardens."

"D-did they know about this?" Blythe asked warily. "Allis and Alistair, I mean."

"The Templar knew," he replied, "as he petitioned the priestess for my release. As for the elf, I do not know. If you wish me not to accompany you," he added, "then you may release me, or slay me as you see fit. It matters not," he said heavily. "But I would like the chance to make amends."

Blythe thought carefully; she had to consider the safety of her companions, after all. But in spite of what he had just told her, she did not feel threatened by him; and believed that after Allis had defeated him at the Circle Tower, he was more biddable.

"You may continue to accompany us, Sten," she said quietly, "but we should keep what we have just spoken of to ourselves. If Cullen found out…"

"I understand, Warden," Sten replied. "Thank you."

~O~

Allis and Alistair sat side by side on the bed, talking. "So we're decided, then?" Alistair asked. "We go to the back of this warehouse and find out where the elves are being taken."

"There may be resistance, though, Alistair," Allis warned. "Zevran was there at night, remember. I'm sure there will be more guards during the day."

They looked up as the door opened. In walked Anders, carrying a stack of papers, followed by Zevran, who was drenched in blood.

"What in the world…" Alistair began.

"We decided to pay Brother Genitivi a visit," Anders explained, holding his hands up at their horrified expressions. "No, we didn't kill him!" he exclaimed. "He wasn't there. There was this bloke calling himself Weylon, who tried to send us in the wrong direction, but Zev knew he was lying and called his bluff."

"And, Zevran got his wish!" the assassin said happily, cleaning off his daggers.

Anders placed the papers on the table. "This is Genitivi's research," he explained as he spread the papers out. "Weylon tried to stop us from looking at it and attacked us. We found a dead body in the back, who I assume was Gentivi's assistant. Weylon was an impostor, and a powerful mage."

"It makes interesting reading," Zev added. "Genitivi was convinced that the ashes reside in a temple located in a town called Haven."

"Haven?" Alistair said doubtfully. "Never heard of it."

"There are directions here," Anders pointed out, "I'm not surprised you've never heard of it. It's not on any map of Ferelden."

"That's not far from Redcliffe," Allis noted as he perused the notes. "If we can get hold of the ashes…"

"If they even exist," Zevran said sceptically.

"Well, yes, if they do," Allis continued, "we can take them straight to Redcliffe. This may not take long at all," he said optimistically.

"We need to see what's happening to the elves first, though," Alistair replied.

"But, what about Eamon?" Allis asked.

"This is more important," Alistair said decisively. "This is your family we're talking about. It would be nice if one of us found our family," he added sadly.

"Oh, Alistair," Allis said sadly as he wrapped his arms around the Templar, leaning his head on Alistair's shoulder.

"I think this is my cue to leave," Zevran said, rolling his eyes.

"Erm, mine too," Anders concurred. "It's just that…well, this is my room, if you don't mind…"

Allis and Alistair laughed and rose from the bed. "Sorry, Anders," Allis grinned. "We'll all meet up in the morning, and finalise our plan."

They all bade each other goodnight, and left Anders and Mr. Wiggums in peace.