A/N: I know how the characters should be portrayed and yet... I can't seem to get them down. Yes, the companions are a bit OC, I'm working on that, promise!

CHAPTER 9

Lothering turned out to be a giant headache, one Briar was all too glad to leave behind at the end of the day. Inside the Chantry, they had learned from a Templar that Grey Wardens were considered to be out-laws, murderers…

The killers of King Cailan.

That had crushed her, she knew it had crushed Alistair, though they both had vehemently began denying it. The Templar, Ser Byrant, had silenced them with assurances that he didn't believe the lies at all, but it didn't change the fact that a bounty had been placed on their heads.

From there they had learned that something had occurred in Redcliffe, prompting Alistair to insist that they head to his boyhood home as soon as possible, worrying something might have befallen the Arl.

The prompting had only gotten worst when Alistair had spotted a knight from Redcliffe, discovering that Arl Eamon was deathly ill and that his wife, the Lady Isolde had sent out the men in search, of all things, the Ashes of Andraste.

Putting Alistair off, she had then gone to see the Revered Mother, needing a moment's peace and hoping against hope that Morrigan would keep her mouth shut.

"Can I help you, Child?" The woman had asked, staring up from her wooden chair as if she were a queen; her posture stiff and her gaze keen.

"I've come to ask your blessing, Mother."

"Of course, and will you be making an offering to the Chantry?"

Briar had hesitated then, knowing they didn't have very much money. She and Alistair had pooled together their resources and found that they had had fifty silver between them. At the time, when they had dealt with the bandits on the road, she had found the idea of rifling over their corpses distasteful, but now she was wishing she had done it.

Morrigan was going to get the chance to say 'I told you so' later, as the Witch had informed the Wardens that they would soon find 'the gold of dead men better than empty bellies and ragged shirts'.

"What would be an appropriate tithe?" She finally had asked, glancing quickly at Alistair who had nodded reassuringly. Of course, he had been trained as a Templar, raised in a Chantry from her understanding.

"Thirty silver."

They had made an offering and received a blessing. Briar had had the sacrilegious thought that she had never had such an expensive blessing before, realizing now that she had took Mother Mallol for granted. Mallol, who had been slaughtered along with the rest of the castle's occupants, who Briar had known since she was knee high to a grasshopper, who had insisted on being called simply Mallol…

Their pockets thirty silver lighter, they had made their way to the bar after that. Which is where Briar's headache had kicked into overdrive…

"Now isn't this the same person we've been asking about, by description no less, and everyone has been denying seeing the lass?"

Briar stared at the small group of soldier's that had accosted her and her companions within moments of stepping into Dane's Refuge, a bar and inn, recognizing the crest they wore to be Loghain's.

"All Grey Warden's have been declared traitors, and murderer's of good King Cailan."

"That's a bloody lie!" Alistair growled from clenched teeth; one hand straying to the hilt of his sword as he moved to stand besides Briar.

Morrigan remained silent, folding her arms over her chest; amber eyes narrowed in contempt.

"King Cailan died due to Teryn Loghain quitting the field." She was fairly certain her voice would break, pleased and surprised to find out that it did not, it also had sounded cool and collected.

"There's a price on your head, though I think I'll cut out your lying tongue first…" The solider, who was obviously in command, said slowly, glaring at her.

"Sers, perhaps we can settle this peacefully, without bloodshed?"

Briar arched one eyebrow when a redheaded Chantry sister seemingly stepped out of nowhere and in between the two parties, wondering if the woman was daft. "Sister, please, get out of the way." She said, with forced politeness.

The woman turned towards her, large; imploring blue eyes burning into Briar's. "There has been enough death as of late, surely we don't need to witness anymore?"

"Those Warden's are traitors to the crown!"

Alistair was already drawing his sword, Briar following suit and sliding her Dar'Misu's from their sheaths on her back. From behind them, they could both hear the crackle of Morrigan casting some sort of protective shield around herself.

If she had been expecting the Sister to step aside once the fighting had commenced, Briar was sorely mistaken. With a skill she had never seen in a Sister nor expected from one, the woman disarmed a soldier almost instantly with her bare hands; catching his falling sword and was aiming it at his throat before he could blink.

He dropped to his knees.

The fight was over in minutes, with two casualties and the remaining three all weaponless with their hands up in the universal 'I surrender' pose.

"Please, Warden, we're just doing our jobs!" The captain pleaded, apparently forgetting that only moments ago he had been threatening to cut out her lying tongue. "Loghain-"

Alistair took a menacing step forward; his usually cheerful and slightly oblivious expression replaced with one that was… filled with wrath.

"Send them back to Denerim." The sister said gently, reaching out as if she would place a hand on Briar's shoulder only to think twice and lower it back to her side; though her face was still beseeching, the musical lilt in her obviously Orlesian accented voice pleading as well. "They are defeated, surely don't you need to kill them?"

"And have them run back to Loghain? To tell him of where we are?" Briar had already steeled herself for what she knew was to be the only outcome of this, her own tone sharply contrasting against the other woman's. "No."

"Then you-" The Sister nodded, sadness filling her eyes though she resolutely turned and began speaking softly, administering last rites. When she was finished, she stepped back and turned her head; flinching when a spray of blood streaked her hair; clenching her eyes shut.

~!~

"Tis most fortunate this is only a superficial wound."

Of all people to be tending to a wound, Briar was certain Morrigan was not on her top ten list, the Witch still… made her feel nervous, which made her automatically want to wrap her fingers around the hilt of the Cousland sword.

They had made camp on the outskirts of Lothering –after dispatching more bandits- near a pond, only to find they had made camp a bit too close to a den of rather large, ferocious bears. While they had successfully slain all the beasts, she had taken a claw to the back.

Where she couldn't reach to tend it herself. She certainly wasn't Alistair to help her, he was off gathering firewood anyways –though she suspected he was having a 'personal' moment. Nor was she allowing their newest addition to tend her wounds either, if he would have.

Sten of the Beresaad had been imprisoned and left to die because he had murdered a family of farmers, right down to their children. One child had escaped and fled, searching for help and when the soldiers had arrived at the farm hold, Sten had still been waiting, accepting his fate in silence.

He didn't deny doing it, but he did not explain himself either.

After a conversation with the Chantry sister, Leliana, Briar had found herself needing fresh air. The woman claimed that the Maker had sent her a vision, and she was to join the Wardens on their quest.

Briar's faith in the Maker seemed to be deteriorating by the day, she had refused the obviously somewhat insane woman's request.

Much to Alistair and apparently Morrigan's relief.

Sten, they had found in a cage, waiting to die.

She had only spoken with him for maybe five minutes before setting off to get permission from the Revered Mother to have him released into her care. Sten had accepted her proposal that he join their cause in ending the Blight, seeking his atonement in the service.

When Morrigan realized that her charge wasn't paying any attention, she jabbed a finger against the healing poultice she had secured against the slight wounds. "I said, tis-"

"Thank you, Morrigan." Briar had snapped out of her thoughts quickly, not wanting to be poked again. "How bad was it?"

"Any deeper and we would have had to seek out a true Healer."

Heaving a sigh of relief, she pushed herself up onto her feet and pulled her tunic back over her head while turning to nod at the Witch. "Thank you."

"That tis the second time you've expressed gratitude, Warden."

"I wasn't sure you heard the first, since you were busy prodding me."

Morrigan's lips twitched.

~!~

"The hell if you are!"

Alistair looked around bewilderedly, looking for someone to share his confusion with but Morrigan was watching the display from hooded eyes while Sten seemed impassive, watching as Briar literally screamed in the face of Leliana. Draven was hanging back as well, his tongue lolling out of his mouth; ears cocked forward.

"I'm coming with you, Warden." Leliana said simply, having changed her Chantry robes for something more practical for life on the roads, leather amour, a complete set; though she kept her helmet tucked under her arm which left her short cut red hair free. "You will need all the help you can get."

"What is it with insane people wanting to follow me around?" Briar demanded, throwing her head back so the words were directed skyward; her hands wrapping around an invisible neck and wringing it.

Leliana giggled while Morrigan just arched an eyebrow, Sten remained stoic.

"He-ey," Alistair whined, staring at his fellow Grey Warden; lower lip jutted out in a pout. "I'm not insane."

"Merely an imbecile." Morrigan said in her favorite sneering tone.

"Alright..." Briar finally sighed, groaning when she was suddenly attacked in what could only be called an overly exuberant hug.