"I spy with my little eye" Alistair said softly as he tapped the top of his pestle against his chin. "something that begins with …...'F'" he finished as he began once again crushing the mushrooms in the mortar he held loosely on his knee.

"Careful Alistair, you don't want to get that all over." Leliana said softly as she pulled the pot of boiling water from the fire.

"Sad that you are not looking in a mirror, or I would say fool." Sten said about as moodily as he could possibly get. He was watching as Leliana coached Alistair in the making of poisons and poultice', at least he would finally be of some use to the Warden should she ever return. His hopes on seeing Kadan again was quickly dwindling as a full month was nearing its end.

"Oh ouch. I bet you're ever so much fun at dinner parties." Alistair said flashing one of his most obnoxious grins of the day. Sten believed, truly believed Alistair would do so much better if he submitted to the Qun. Even someone as dimwitted and obnoxious as him would be well taken care of and have a purpose. An entertainer perhaps, or a steward would suit him better then Heir to a throne that would set him to rule an entire country. It truly boggled the mind how much faith the humans put into a bloodline rather then in the ability of the person themselves.

"...Fire." Sten finally said, because in truth he had nothing better to do then play these stupid guessing games and act his part as a bodyguard to the hapless Warden Prince.

"Nope. I'm not playing with you anymore. And you can forget about that cheese in my knapsack. I won't share it with grumps like you." Alistair said as he moved to sit beside Leliana for the next part of his lessons.

Sten growled in annoyance and stood, his knees groaning from the low awkward position he had been sitting and stormed out of the room. It was not completely Alistair's fault Sten was so moody, he couldn't help the fact he had been born a moron. The fact of the matter was that Sten had become increasingly restless. The blight raged on the surface devouring everything in it's path and he was stuck here, watching an idiot prince who refused to take any action other then to sit on his ass and wait. And the fact he was a giant in a city built too small for him was not helping. This was the part he hated the most, when the Princess dwarf was here he could stay outside in one of their tents, entering the city only when needed. Now he had to stay within the city watching a dimwitted mage hunter, who apparently didn't hunt mages. tch, Fereldens.

Sten snatched up Asala as he ducked under the front door of the Harrowmont estate, the same doorway he banged his head on nearly every day for the first week and a half the Warden Princess had been gone. It had amused the dwarves to no extent to watch the giant smash his head repeatedly on a door frame well over a foot higher then even the tallest of dwarves.

He stood outside the estate for a moment before turning right and heading toward the stairs to the center tier, the commons level of the city. Bodan had shown up a few days ago claiming to be the personal traveling merchant of the Wardens and therefor immune to the headman's axe. He had brought with him bags full of sweet cakes and cookies so Sten had vouched for him, and the horse pulled wagon was always useful.

He descended the stairs to the commons and the moment he stepped through the large iron doors he was surrounded by tiny giggling dwarves, nearly a month had passed and still the children found it amusing to follow and bounce around him as he walked their streets. News did indeed travel fast through this stone city, faster then his long legs carried him apparently.

"Can I ride on yer shoulders today?" One child asked as she skipped backwards ahead of him.

"No."

"Can I hold your sword?"

"No."

"Can you tell us a story about top side?"

"No."

"Is it true you fall into the sky unless you hold on with your toes?"

"No."

"Is that all you say?"

"...No."

This last ended in a torrent of giggles as they approached the doors to the hall of heroes. "Go home to your parents children, you should be learning lessons not running the streets like stray dathrasi ."

"Do you gots a mabari like the dwarf Warden?"

"No."

"What's a Darpassi...HEY WAIT!"

The last child was cut off when the guards swung the iron doors shut behind him, separating him from the children, and the children from the cold and sunlight that streamed in as the outer doors on the other end of the Hall of Heroes were pushed open.

"Aahh my favorite Kossith, Sten a pleasure to see you again. I have something new for you today, I assume you are here for your daily dose of sweets?"

"Something like that merchant." Sten said as he approached the dwarves small makeshift camp.

"Come now, I told you call me Bodan we are all friends here." Bodan said as he pulled a small sack made of burlap out of the back of his wagon and offered it up to Sten. "Call them Candied Violets. I am sure you will find them quite delicious." Bodan had bought a kings ransom worth of cookies, cakes and other sweets while in Denerim. It had taken three days and a few bakers to fill his order but it was money well spent. The wardens party were all very fond of sweet things and they always paid him well.

Sten grunted as he took the sack from Bodan and sat down on one of the stronger wooden boxes beside Bodan's wagon. "How do you dwarves live this way?" He asked as he opened the bag and popped one of the candied flowers in his mouth. He had to give it to the merchant, he did know his sweets.

"We have always lived this way, well most of us. Sadly our numbers are dwindling and in a few more centuries our bones will be sold at the Wonders of Thedas in Denerim. They might even try to turn our city into a stone museum." Bodan chuckled.

"Your city stinks." He said as he popped another flower in his mouth. "So many bodies without baths mixed with the foul stench of animals, darkspawn, and sulfur. How do you stand it?"

"Well those who live in the city were born and grew up in there, we never really think about it or noticed it, you will get used to it after awhile."

"I would rather not be here long enough to... get used to it." Sten said around a mouth full of flowers.

"No word from the Princess I take it?"

"No." Sten replied and then sat silently for a short while eating his candied violets and watching Bodan and Sandal go about their work.

"Be a shame to lose her." Bodan finally said breaking the silence. "Not to speak ill of the Templar but I don't see this blight ending before it swallows all of Thedas without Nahalanee."

"For once we both agree on something." Sten said as he popped the last flower into his mouth and stood tossing the sack into the back of the wagon.

"Ah liked them I see."

"Yes, they were very... interesting."

"See you tomorrow then."

"We shall see." Sten said as he wandered back toward the city. He was glad Bodan didn't have much to say today, usually he is a mountain of useless information, but it is worth sitting through for the cookies and cakes the man had stashed in the back of his wagon. He just hoped the dwarf wouldn't run out of them any time soon.

..~~

A door hanging slightly crooked on old hinges in desperate need of oil, the click of a metal clad boot on a loose stone, second stair from the bottom leading to the throne room. The smell of lye and the whisper of harsh cloth against a wicker basket as a servant passes by the door. These things Sten quickly grew accustom to as he lay each night in a bed half his size, feet resting on the floor hands tucked behind his head on a pillow much to small and stuffed with maker knew what kind of materials.

When Sten was uncomfortable he snored, and when he snored he snored loud, but he also slept light so it was no surprise to find him out in the hall with Asala in his hands and at the ready sometime just after midnight. The sudden thundering crack of a door slamming against stone and a dozen pairs of steel clad feet storming wildly down the hall was a good indication that something was amiss.

"You're naked." A small form said as it looked up at the giant without even flinching. The smell that wafted from the dirty little thing smelled of darkspawn, animals, and death. The only indication of what was under the thick shell of the black tar like substance was the wild golden gaze that peered from a dirt caked face.

"I am not." He said slowly lowering the tip of Asala to the floor.

"Close enough. I'm sure Leliana and Zev won't complain much but..." She shook her head looking the warrior over. "I don't think you will last long against an Ogre." She stared up with those wild eyes again.

"What do you expect. You and your guard force charge through in the middle of the night like an invasion force making such racket."

"You got big legs like an Ogre, but at least they aren't blue. Blue legs look really really weird. Ogres look weird, I hate ogres they hurt when they hit me."

"Indeed." Sten frowned slightly. "Did you succeed in your mission?"

"Kind of yes! I met my Ancestors!"

"Good, then perhaps you should get some sleep and stop making so much noise before you wake up the rest of the palace." He was pretty sure the entire palace was awake already and the rest of their companions were rolling out of bed and doing... whatever it is rogues and non mage hunting mage hunters do.

"Sorry." The woman whispers and grinned ear to ear, it was a wild grin one Sten did not like on the face he knew so well. "I will try to keep it down. I am going to go to bed now, if Urthemiel comes for me, tell her to come back in a few days yeah?" She said and patted him on the hip as she ducked past him, he could feel the fever baking off her skin and was actually a little surprised she was still able to stay on her own two feet.

Sten turned and watched her disappear down one of the halls shedding broken armor pieces and clumps of black as she went. She was also speaking, fast, in a mix of dwarven and trade while several maids followed quickly picking up what they could and leaving the rest for other servants to clean up later.

"She's sick with fever and a bit delirious." Zevran said with a sigh, he didn't look much better then the warden had, but at least he could feel no fever baking off the elf as he had with the dwarf.

"So I have noticed."

he frowned and slipped back into his own room closing the door behind him. As he settled back on the too small bed with the pillow that scratched his skin he smiled. Kadan had returned and she was alive and...well she was alive.

..~~..

She sat head bowed watching as the droplets of water slid down silver strands and splashed gently against the stone where her hair pooled around her feet. It seemed ages since the last time she could see the color of her own hair without the caked on filth of the deep, or the fever which kept her in a state of delirium for over two weeks. It was the only thing she recognized anymore, the silver veil that hid her face from those who passed by her bedroom door.

Most of the images from the last month and a half was a blur in her mind, others so very vivid they haunted both her unconscious and conscious mind. Dark mother, dark mother dark mother. The words ran through her mind. Embrace the darkness that grows within you, listen to it's song.

"You shouldn't be here." She said softly as she plucked an invisible piece of lint from the ugly bronto green skirt she wore. Thank the Ancestors her new armor would be done today, just in time to join the Assembly. She had not been looking forward to crowning Harrowmont as new king looking like a fool just up from Dust town.

Zevran stood in the doorway watching her, he had made not a single noise on his approach, yet he was less then surprised she had heard him.

"I can hear the stone, my brother Trian once told me it was the whisper of our ancestors."

"You mean the lyrium within the stone?"

Nahalanee smiled as she traced the muscles in his stomach with her index finger. "No, the lyrium sings, the stone doesn't. It is the stone I hear."

"I do not understand." Zevran said his fingers lazily running through the thick mane of silver.

"Stone makes no noise, and if you can hear it's silence, then you can hear when silence echoes off of it." She paused and then sighed slightly frustrated. "Trian could have explained it better."

He didn't quite understand what she was talking about until they had found themselves in Orzammar. No matter how quiet he was, she heard him. Silence echoing off the silent indeed.

"Have you decided?" He asked as he pushed the door closed and leaned against it as he slid the bolt into place with one hand.

"Of course I have, you think I would choose the traitor, even if he has a firm hand?" She said softly as she grabbed a few strands of her own hair and wrapped it lazily around her fingers.

"You would crown him out of spite and hate for your own brother, is that truly wise?"

"Pyral is a traditionalist, Behlen would change things too much." It was the truth, though she knew that wasn't really what she was basing her decision on.

"Traditionalist?"

Nahalanee rubbed her hand against her skirt and sighed. "Behlen wants to loosen the caste system, Pyral wants to keep things how they are."

"What does the casteless have to say?"

Nahalanee let out a humorless laugh. "You're kidding right? Casteless have no say in this city, ever."

"And Pyral wants to keep it that way, a tyrant in his own way. Cowardly and weak yes, but still a tryant." He smirked. "Oppression in any form is still oppression warden."

"I...never thought of it that way." She said truthfully. She had been a noble and never cared what the Casteless said or did, as long as they said or did it in Dusttown with the rest of the vermin. "we don't see things that way down here, it's just the way it's always been."

"Your brother seems the better choice either way, yes? If nothing else, Harrowmont is still too weak to sit upon a throne."

"He is not my brother. I am not an Aeducan in the eyes of my Ancestors or the shaperate." She shook her head and sighed. "Why did you come here, surly not to speak politics."

"I wanted to talk." He said pushing himself off the door and crossing the room to stand before her.

"I think I've done enough talking to last a lifetime." She said with a small shudder. He knew she was thinking of the deep roads when she was sick with fever and muttering nonsense almost nonstop since.

"We have not spoken since we returned, near a week now."

"Yes well... I've been sick." Though it was true, she was using it as a weak excuse. The truth was the tension between them had become volatile in the deep and she didn't want to deal with it right before she had to deal with the assembly. "I don't need anymore lectures, Morrigan has given them to me, Lel, Sten, even Alistair has lectured me. Please..."

"I have something for you."

"What?" She sighed softly letting the lock of hair slide through her fingers and fall back into place.

"Come now Warden, it would not be a surprise if I told you before you saw it."

She sighed and raised her head, peering through her hair rather then pushing it aside. "You brought me a cookie?"

"Not just any cookie, it is as Bodan said The best damn cookie in all Ferelden, or he will eat his boot!"

Nahalanee smiled slightly and looked up at Zevran. "You brought me a cookie?"

"You were expecting something else perhaps?"

She smirked as she dropped her gaze back to the floor "I prefer apples, Sten is the cookie fanatic."

"Ah yes, I always get you two confused, I must try harder to remember." He said as his other hand reached out and pushed her hair back behind her shoulder. His fingertips traced her jaw and slid gently across tattooed lips. "Forgive me?" he asked as he tilted her face upwards to look at him.

She stared up at him for a long time, it had been to long since she saw his eyes with something other then aggravation or bitterness. Well there was that moment in the deep roads when she so bravely fainted at the sight of the broodmother. She thought she had seen something in his eyes... but no she was already losing her mind by then and she always had a wild imagination. With a small smile she reached out and took the cookie, callused fingers brushing against a callused palm. "Next time I want an apple." She said and they both laughed, it really wasn't that funny but they couldn't help it.

She grabbed his shirt with her free hand and pulled him toward her burying her face in his stomach, inhaling the scent of poison, leather, and wind. He wrapped his arms around her head burying his fingers in her hair and smiled. "By the way my dear warden, what in Thedas are you WEARING?"

..~~..

"Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem. This Warden granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void."

"You destroyed the Anvil? Are you crazy?"

"That's right I did Volney." Nahalanee said. "I would no sooner defy the will of my ancestors then I would bring the mountain down upon this city."

"They are no longer your Ancestors nor your city, Warden."

"ENOUGH! We will get nothing done if we sit here bickering."

"What does this have to do with anything, we need a king not an Anvil. Without one we cannot send our armies to the surface." Bemot, Nahalanee had once been rather fond of his younger cousin Tyrsat, perhaps a little to fond at one point. She lowered her head letting her hair fall into her face to hide the smirk that crossed her lips.

Oghren who had been doing most of the talking for the warden, and loving every minute of it, took that as his cue to continue. "Before Caridin died, he forged a crown for Orzammar's next king, chosen by the Ancestors themselves!" He tossed his hands up in a dramatic display on the last words. "It was Caridin's wish that the Warden choose our next king."

"That is ridiculous! This exile cannot speak for our city, she is unworthy!"

"Do not disrespect the Wardens in my presence Varen! She may no longer be one of us, but if Duncan saw fit to recruit her then she deserves the respect her title demands. Besides we have been arguing for months, it is time to settle this and if we have to rely on an outsider then so be it."

Nahalanee tuned out the noise or the arguing and mud slinging that continued to loop around the room. Her heart beat was to hard and fast in her chest, no matter what she did enemies would be made, alliances broken, blood shed, and a house destroyed. It was the last that had haunted her mind since Caridin refused to name the king himself.

"Warden?"

"Sorry, yes?"

"You must name the king."

Harrowmont! The only name she wanted to say while standing there in the center of the hall. Harrowmont had always been kind and loving toward her, like a second father and very much into ancient tradition. Bhelen was strong willed, strong armed, extremely manipulative, and a traitor to his own kin.

"Bhelen" The name was like sulfur and ash on her tongue. The gasps from the Assembly mirrored her own surprise perfectly but Zev had been right. If someone had to lead, better a firm hand then a man with too weak a heart. And besides Harrowmont would probably be assassinated before long and Bhelen would end up on the throne anyway. This way she could avoid more bloodshed and make sure to secure the army.

She saw the smile cross Bhelen's lips, and saw the betrayal etched across Harrowmont's face. She turned away in disgust and quickly exited the hall as Bhelen plodded down the stairs to the center of the room. She had had enough of the Deshyrs, the throne, the dwarves, the stone, she never thought she would miss the sun and the cold so much. Ancestors was she really this bad when she was princess?

"Do you not wish to see your brother crowned warden?" Zevran asked quietly as he followed.

"He's not my brother." She said bitterly as she made her way into the streets where Sten was standing guard and waiting for her return. He did not look the least bit surprised to see her coming out with a look that could curdle milk. "We set camp outside with Bodan tonight, tomorrow we leave." She said as Sten fell into step beside her.

"As you wish Kadan." Sten said more then a little pleased at her decision.

Packing up had been easier said then done, the warden had many admirers since their return, she had been bed ridden for almost a week with fever but Oghren had a big mouth, and the more he drank the louder he spoke. It wasn't long before everyone in Orzammar heard the tale of broodmothers, ogres, shrieks, and paragons and the gifts had poured in, from small gems to large geodes with various carvings. She was pretty sure it was the Caridin part of the story that prompted the sudden outburst of generosity and kindness. Most would end up sold off to merchants along the way, a few she would keep for her own little collection should the blight ever end.

Two hours later while everyone else was dragging their belongings toward the hall of Heroes, Nahalanee and Zevran were walking through the palace to Trian's old room. The room Bhelen decided would be his from now on.

"Release Pyral."

"No, he is a traitor, he tried to steal the throne."

"You are far worse a traitor then he could ever be and you know it."

"He tries to usurp..."

"It was father's wish you never sit on the throne of Orzammar Bhelen, you and I both know it."

"There is no proof."

Nahalanee dropped several papers on the desk that stood between them, the letter from their father and the papers found in the carta's office. "We both know these papers will do little in removing you from the throne, but it will make your life a lot harder." She said as Bhelen stared down at the papers. "And you owe me a boon. House Harrowmont including Pyral."

"You expect me to just act like nothing happened?" His eyes were on the letter written by their father.

"That's right." She smirked and pulled the papers away as Bhelen reached for them. "Like nothing happened." She folded the parchment carefully and slipped them back into her belt.

"I am already giving you the army. Besides you wouldn't destroy your own brother would you?" Bhelen said sounding more then a little defeated.

"I killed one already, didn't I? And I love him." She said in a tone so dark, for a moment Bhelen actually looked genuinely hurt by her words. Good.. "What's it going to be, brother?"

"Fine, it never happened."

"Thank you." she said and turned toward the door. "Good bye Bhelen"

"I can't believe you did that."

"Dwarven politics my dear Antivan." She said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.