Paien was a man leaning into his fifties, and his hair would show more gray if it hasn't been cropped so close to his head. At some point, earlier in his life, he might have been considered handsome. But the years had been unkind, and his face was lined with age, marked with battle, and scarred by a hard life.

Woolsey had shown the man into the Vigil study, and he stood before the fireplace with a straight back, watching the door and waiting for the two young Wardens to arrive.

When they did, Paien took a step forward, and said in a low voice, "You."

Elissa blinked. Her hand was out to greet her brother Warden, but at his tone, she dropped the outstretched hand and rocked back on her heels, "Me?"

"Both of you," Paien's gaze flicked to Alistair, and he shook his head, turning away. "But mostly you, Cousland."

Elissa looked at Alistair, but he seemed equally mystified. "I don't-"

"When we were told that the Archdemon was slain, and that the both of you lived, well." He turned back to them, folding his hands behind his back. "We thought there must have been some mistake. Riordan was dead, perhaps… perhaps it was he who slew the beast, and you," he motioned to Elissa, "were merely taking credit for his sacrifice."

Elissa closed her mouth. She should have known this was coming. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

"But Riordan's body was found very far from the Archdemon's. He could not have been the one to land the killing blow. Who, I wondered, could have killed it? Not either of you, certainly. Only a Warden can kill an Archdemon. And the act results in his death. So." Paien turned back to them. "I began my investigation."

Alistair held up a hand, "Look, we can-"

"I wondered if you conscripted someone on your own. Let that poor fool die. No, I said, they wouldn't know how. The Joining is not something one can fumble into. Besides, every single witness I asked claimed it was you, Cousland, who drove your sword into the demon's skull." He had crossed the room and was standing before her, expression hard. "And yet here you are. Alive and well. How is this possible?"

She pulled in a deep breath, and met the elder Warden's eye.

But Alistair spoke up first, "It was my idea, Paien, I will take full responsibility-"

"Alistair."

His teeth clenched at her voice, but his full attention was on Paien, "I was the one who... took part in the ritual, not her, if it's anyone's fault-"

"Ritual?"

"Alistair!"

"I am the senior Grey Warden, the responsibility falls to me." He glanced back at her briefly. "I took part in a ritual with a Witch of the Wilds that... that... well, it... changed that."

"Maker help me," Elissa pinched the bridge of her nose, turning on a heel.

"I want a bit more detail, Alistair."

"No, you don't." Elissa crossed the room and dropped into a chair. "And it wasn't his idea."

Alistair had suddenly turned very red, and was no longer meeting Elissa's eye. He was staring at a chip in the brick of the fireplace instead. There was an unspoken agreement between them that the night with Morrigan was never to be mentioned again. "It was ancient magic. Blood magic. She-... I-... well, I honestly didn't do much of anything, I swear, I just-"

"They had sex," Elissa said. She turned to look at Paien. "Morrigan used magic to conceive a child with the taint. The essence of the slain Archdemon that would have killed either of us instead passed into the child." She paused, then hung her head. "She believes the child will possess the soul of the Old God."

Paien had gone silent, looking from one of them to the other with wide eyes. "And... you thought this a good idea?"

Elissa rubbed her face with both hands, "I thought I'd have opportunity to... take care of the problem later." She dropped her hands into her lap, "But then Amaranthine..."

The older man's mouth formed a thin line. Finally, he said, "I understand you were green at the time, Cousland. But at least tell me Duncan informed you of our oath."

Alistair seemed to regain a bit of himself at the mention of his mentor. He scowled at Paien, and skipped ahead to the part he wanted to hear. "In death, sacrifice."

Paien glanced back at Alistair, "A sacrifice that neither of you was willing to make." He shook his head in disbelief. "You realize this means the child might be able to command armies of darkspawn. And Maker's breath, Alistair! Royal blood! How could the two of you be so completely idiotic?"

"But," Alistair frowned, "she said-"

"A witch using blood magic to impregnate herself with a future Archdemon said something to put your mind at ease, did she?" Paien blinked at him. "Oh, I am certain whatever she said to you was the complete and utter truth, do go on and relay to me what the witch said."

Alistair shrank again, dropping his head and stepping backwards.

"Unbelievable. C'est des conneries!" Paien punched the back of a chair with his large fist, then pressed his forehead into his hand, eyes closed. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Tell me what connection this has with the talking darkspawn."

"None," Elissa answered in a low, flat voice.

"Of course not."

"Talking darkspawn?" Alistair asked.

"I received word that a talking darkspawn arrived at Weisshaupt shortly before my arrival here." He looked back at Elissa, who was crossing to the sideboard. "It popped up out of the ground, unarmed, and asking about our truce. Our... cooperation. We of course killed the thing. But you know something about this, don't you?"

Elissa poured herself a large glass of brandy. "It came on behalf of the Architect."

Paien was silent, and his small, hard eyes widened ever so slightly.

"The Architect is an intelligent darkspawn who asked for an accord. A peace. He wished to end our fighting," she continued.

"And you agreed to this?" Paien asked.

"He does not answer to the call of the Old Gods," Elissa answered, turning to face him. "And he wishes to free other darkspawn from that compulsion. He introduced the idea of ending the Blights altogether. Was I to deny him?"

"Hang on," Alistair spoke up again. "What... No one told me anything about this. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Elissa shook her head, "I hadn't had the chance to yet."

Paien took the glass of brandy from Elissa, and tipped it back to swallow it in one gulp. He made a face as he handed the empty glass back to the woman.

Alistair watched the elder Warden closely, and his eyes narrowed, "You know something about this Architect as well, don't you?"

Paien wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "I said nothing of the kind."

"Nor are you denying it."

The older man watched Alistair for several long, silent moments as his jaw flexed with unspoken thoughts. He dropped his head and gripped the back of a chair. He finally looked back to Elissa and said, "You are relieved of your command."

Elissa felt as if she'd been punched in the gut, and stepped back with wide eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"You are no longer Warden Commander. It's very plain to see that you are not suited to lead in any capacity."

She stared at the empty glass in her hand, scowling slowly. "What will happen to my men? The Vigil?"

"Someone else will be assigned here. I brought a few Wardens with me, experienced men who can run things properly. Who can clean up your messes. As for your men, I've yet to meet them. But they may remain."

"And me?"

Paien's spine straightened again, "You, the both of you, are to return to work. Now that my business is finished here, I can return to another, more pressing task. The both of you will assist me." His chin lowered, "It's clear I cannot leave you unsupervised."

Alistair let out the breath he'd been holding and collapsed into a large, comfortable chair. "Maker. I thought…"

"You're still Wardens," Paien said in a hard voice. "You've been without guidance for too long. Or without any at all," he glanced to Elissa. "Finish whatever business you have here. We depart for Nevarra in one week." His gaze lingered over the sagging Alistair a moment longer, then he turned and strode out of the room without another word.

"Maker," Alistair said again, an arm draped over his face. "I never thought… I thought we did everything all right…"

Elissa remained silent, turning back to the sideboard to refill the glass Paien helped himself to. Wordlessly, she placed it in Alistair's hand.

"We ended the Blight!" he said, sitting up again. "And you… how many lives did you save here? That has to count for something!" He paused, "Who is the Architect?"

"As I said," Elissa murmured, pouring a second glass for herself. "An intelligent being who asks for mercy, asks for a truce. Asks to work together to end Blights…"

"Still a darkspawn," Alistair said, frowning at his drink.

"Yes. Still a darkspawn."

"Another issue you thought you could fix later if it became a problem." His lips twisted up a bit, "Like Morrigan."

She had no answer to that. She swallowed her drink quickly, accepting the painful burn down her throat like a penance.

"I know that I can be a real fool sometimes," he went on, still not looking at her. "But… I really thought that everything was going to be all right now. That it was over. And you and me, a couple of Wardens in love, living out our days here in some… fairy tale happily ever after."

Elissa looked at him with his defeated posture and sorrowful expression and took a few steps closer. "Alistair."

"We shouldn't have done it. Paien was right. We were cowards. I didn't want to live without you. Nor did I want to doom you to a life of heartbreak without me." He let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. "Bit selfish of me, really."

She sat on the arm of his chair, wrapping an arm about him and tilting his head to rest it against her breast. "I was selfish, not you. And there is nothing that can be done about it now."

"We can find and kill Morrigan."

"Not tonight."

"Right," he sighed heavily. "He's going to have someone else do it, apparently. Her and your Architect both."

There was still a chill to his tone. Wavering between anger and resignation. He left her alone to see to his abdication, to Duncan's memorial, only to come back to this chaos. It wasn't fair that he was caught up in the middle of her mess. Elissa slipped her fingers from his hair and got back to her feet. "We have a week," she murmured. "I should begin preparations. Tell everyone what's happened."

He finally looked up at her as she turned to the door, then let out a breath and sagged in his chair again. "Right. I'll…" he trailed off, and then let out another sad little laugh. "Drink myself silly and greet you in the morning hung-over and in a sour mood." He paused a beat, before saying to her in the manner of a man trying to convince himself, "We're still Grey Wardens. There's a light at the end of this tunnel. Go on, then."