Eriana stood, one hand on her hip, the other to her mouth as she chewed on a polished and manicured thumb, looking at the mountain of fabric monstrosity that was currently draped over the dress form in her room. A month ago when she had commissioned the dress, she had been so confident in her decision; now she was just wondering what on earth she had been thinking. That and that Nathaniel and the others played a massive and inappropriately timed joke on her by convincing her that this particular style was the way to go.

They had been sitting in their private lounge reserved for the senior Wardens, the official palace missive sitting on the table in front of them. "So what exactly does a Heir Presentation Ceremony entail?" Eriana finally asked, looking to Nathaniel and Saul Barrett, her seneschal, hoping that either of them had the slightest bit of insight.

"I wasn't around when Cailan was born," Nathaniel pointed out with a shrug, "so I'm absolutely no help here. Plus, my father started grooming Thomas to take over as the heir while I was off in the Free Marches, so I never got the lessons on proper etiquette here."

Saul also shrugged, "Never got invited to the castle when I was an innkeeper. I'm sure that there are books that detail these things."

Singrun's head popped up from one such book that she was leafing through. "This one is about ceremonies and such. Apparently, this is a very formal landsmeet where the lords who hold a title of Arl or higher are brought in to meet the heir in some formal ceremony with the king and queen. There is often a ball that accompanies it for everyone else in the court."

Nathaniel gave a small grunt. "Well, that explains why we all are invited, but only Ana herself will get to meet the prince."

Singrun nodded. "Also, preceding the formal meeting, there is some ceremony that is held at the Chantry."

"A christening," Saul said. "I attended the one for Oren Cousland back in Highever several years ago. The Revered Mother will bless him, then he will be given a name."

"So the poor kids is nameless for the first month of his life?" Eriana asked, aghast.

Saul laughed, "Officially, I suppose that's the case, but they're likely already calling him by the name he will be given that day."

Eriana shook her head, "You nobles make everything way too difficult. Why all this ceremony and pomp over the oldest and most natural thing in the world. Back in the alienage, a midwife would just hand the baby back to the mom, and everyone would get on with their lives."

Nathaniel laughed at that. "This is the heir to the throne we're talking about. Everything in his life will be full of pomp and circumstance. By the fade, there's likely a ceremony for the first time he uses the necessary by himself for the first time. Besides, this likely dates back to a time when the birth of an Heir had to be verified by the court to assure no pretenders could claim a right to the throne. It's dissolved into ceremony now. And by the way, I would point out that you are the noble who will be taking place in the ceremony."

Eriana growled. "Don't remind me. This just gives me another reason to hate Alistair for slapping this title on me."

Nathaniel gave a small snort. "You couldn't hate him if you tried." He sighed, "Maybe we should just adopt the Free Marches tradition. The Queen, Viscountess, whatever would give birth in private, and a town crier would announce the birth before posting the name outside of the palace."

Claude, a recent transfer from the Orlesian Wardens, chimed in. "As long as we are talking about royal birthing traditions, you should be thankful that the Orlesian traditions have been avoided." He took a long drink from the wine in front of him before continuing. "The Game is played always, even in the birthing chamber itself. The entire court is required to be in the palace for the final weeks of the empresses' pregnancy so that all will be present at the moment of birth."

"Woah, wait a moment," Eriana said, interrupting him. "So the entire court gathers for weeks to wait for the announcement of the heir's birth."

Claude raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin on his face. "I didn't say anything about the announcement. They gather to witness the birth itself." At everyone's horrified expressions, he began to laugh. "According to my grandfather, Celine's mother was nearly crushed to death when the doctor announced that the baby was coming. The air was so stifling that the poor woman could barely breathe."

"Ewwwww. Okay, so the heir greeting ceremony is sounding better and better," Erina said once the disgust and shock had passed. "Now, to the most important question, what do I wear to something like this? I doubt my formal Warden Commander armor will be appropriate for meeting a baby."

"No, we're definitely looking at a dress situation here, a formal gown actually," Nathaniel said with a sigh. "Which isn't exactly my area of expertise, so...anyone?"

After a few moments of everyone looking awkwardly, Ogren pointed out the obvious. "Um, we're all warriors, so dresses and party stuff isn't something any of us have much experience with. Why don't you just wear one of those Antivan dresses like you've worn in the past?"

"No," Eriana said with a sigh. "It is already far too cold for an Antivan dress; besides, I get the feeling that I need something with a more formal and traditional cut."

"If formal is what you're going for," Claude said, "then perhaps have a dressmaker create something in the modern Orlesian style using Amaranthine colors."

"Orange and brown? Um, no, but you may be on the right track with the Orlesian idea," Eriana said. Looking back on it now, Eriana realized that she should have made him or the dressmaker herself clarify exactly what modern Orlesian style was.

Hanging off the dress form in front of her was what Eriana could only describe as a mountain of fabric. The blue, black, and white dress had an overly full skirt with multiple layers that would billow out over the extra layers of padding she had to wear fastened around her hips under the dress, though why the Orlesians added padding while squeezing into a corset, Eriana had no idea. Given her small figure and narrow waist, the extra padding was going to give her a strangely disproportionate look. Coupled with the bulky bodice of the dress were puffy sleeves with black lace over bright blue fabric and paired with lacy black gloves that traveled half way up her forearm. All of that was bad enough, but the worst part was the high, structured collar that fanned out from her shoulder blades reaching up above her head and the way too deep neckline. The dress would have probably been striking on a tall, full-figured human, but Eriana was pretty sure all this dress would do for her was to make her look short and wide or like a child in her mother's ball gown.

She wished that she had gone Ogren's suggestion and worn the light, flowy Antivan style that had been her goto over the past few years, but in all reality, she was trying to eliminate everything Antivan from her life. Moving on would be impossible if she continued to surround herself with things that reminded her of Zevran, so she purposefully shied away from the clothes and styles Zevran had dressed her in. Apparently, that meant that she was forced to find a new style or be doomed to be forever lost in a mountain of lace and tulle. At least, she thought that was what the fabric in that fluffy skirt she had to wear under the rest of the dress was called. Maker, she was going to burn alive by the end of the night.

Thankfully, the castle was cool and drafty so the extra layers were not stifling even in the dense crowd. Erina was iching for her weapons, which Nathaniel refused to let her wear beneath her dress. She had pointed out that no one would never find them beneath all that stuff. He had also pointed out that it would take her three assistants to even get to any concealed weapons. Arriving in the ballroom, she was relieved to see that hers was not the most extravagant dress. No, in fact, most of the women seemed to borrow from the Orlesian style, some wearing dresses with collars so extravagant that it made the women look as though their heads were sitting on a lace platter. Eriana wondered if they could even bring a cup of wine to their mouths without assistance. It was all the elf could do to not shake her head and mumble something about stupid nobles. Giving her arm a final squeeze, Nathaniel stepped away and made his way into the main ballroom, leaving her to navigate the room with the most powerful men and women in the kingdom by herself.

It took her a few minutes to work her way around the room, greeting the other lords and ladies invited to greet the new prince. After three years of navigating these kinds of gatherings, she should be used to being the only elf in the room who wasn't holding a serving platter of some type, but it was still a bit unnerving for her at first. It didn't surprise her when she realized that she was scanning the room for the only two people she would feel remotely comfortable with, Teagan Guerrin and Fergus Cousland. Although, speaking with Teagan would likely be somewhat awkward for her since she hadn't seen him since the whole mess with Eamon went down. True, Teagan didn't know the true story of his brother's downfall, but that thought didn't comfort her all that much, seeing Tegan would likely stir up some very negative feelings. To her surprise, however, it was neither of them who finally approached her.

"Aedan!" Eriana exclaimed, forcing herself not to throw her arms around the young nobleman who sauntered up beside her. "How did you manage to charm your way in here? I was expecting your brother."

Aedan smiled, bringing her hand to his lips to plant a kiss on it, turning it at the last second to kiss the small decorative opening just over the pulse point on her wrist rather than the back of her hand before tucking it neatly into the crook of his arm. "I am the official representative of Highever this evening, My Lady. My dear brother sends his regrets to the royal family, but he is eagerly awaiting the arrival of his own heir."

Eriana gasped, "I hadn't heard that Babbette was expecing. That is wonderful news." The young widower had only remarried in the past year, passing the title of Ferelden's most eligible bachelor to man currently leading her to the drink table. The union to delicate Orlesian noble woman had been purely political at first, but having only seen them together once since the wedding, it was easy to see that Fergus was quite taken with his new wife. Given what he had lost, it was understandable that he was unwilling to leave her so close to the impending birth of their first child.

"It is indeed. I expect to come home to find myself demoted to second in line for the teyrnir, a bit of news I have been eagerly anticipating since the two of them wed," Aedan said with a smile.

Eriana cocked her head and looked up at him, unsurprised by the intense look in his eyes. "You are probably the first nobleman ever to be excited by the prospect of being demoted."

"I was never destined to rule; you know this, Ana," he said intently. "Sitting on a throne doling out proclamations isn't what I'm suited for, and with the birth of a new heir, I'm free from my family's obligations to pursue what I truly desire." He turned toward her, giving her a small, confident smile.

"Aedan…"

A servant in very formal livery stepped into the room to address them, cutting off the need for Eriana to attempt to deflect Aedan's implied request. "Your attention, please, My Lords and My Ladies. Their Royal Highnesses, His Majesty King Alistair Theirin and Her Majesty Queen Anora Theirin nee Mac Tir would like to invite you to greet His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Cillin Maric Theirin. You will be escorted back to the royal family in groups of two, if you would."

If there was any way to run and still maintain a sense of dignity, Erina had no doubt there would have been a mad dash to the door in order to be the first in the room to officially greet the royal prince. Though by all rights, Aedan should have been admitted first since he was the proxy for the second most powerful man in the nation. However, when the others turned to glance at him, he waved them forward, choosing to stay with her. It was distraction enough from their previous conversation.

As they were waiting, Tegan made his way over to them. Apparently, being raised with Alistair had given him almost familial status, so he had already met young Cillin, though not officially.

Eriana rolled her eyes. "How do you meet someone without meeting them officially? You all make things far more difficult than necessary."

Both of the men laughed. "Idle time and inflated ego creates a world of strange behaviors," Tegan conceded. "However, it has been the tradition for so long, who are we to dispute it? Had you been in the capitol when she gave birth, you would have also already met him as well, but since you had to travel, you have to wait and be received by the young prince just like everyone else."

"He's a month old. How exactly does a one month old receive anyone?"

Before Tegan could reply, Aedan gave her a tap on the shoulder, indicating that they were next. Ana said goodbye to Tegan, allowing Aedan to guide her out of the room. They were announced by their formal titles - another ceremony that nearly had the elf rolling her eyes - before they were admitted into the formal sitting room. Alistair and Anora were sitting on either side of a gilded cradle. Her best friend gave her a broad smile and gestured to the tiny figure swaddled in crimson blankets decorated with embroidered nearly a dozen Theirin lions.

At a glance, Eriana nearly froze. All she saw were the blonde curls, and it was like someone had stolen her breath. True, Cillin couldn't have been any more different from Asala. He was solid and healthy, sucking on his thumb as he slept peacefully; the tops of his small, rounded ears were hidden beneath the blonde curls, and his dark lashes rested on healthy, rosy cheeks. But all Ana saw was the blonde hair, and it was all she needed to see to bring that crushing feeling rushing back. It had been over two years; how could she still be so affected by something that had happened so long ago? In a daze, she stared at the baby, deaf to whatever Aedan was saying beside her. Only once the room grew silent did she realize that everyone was waiting for her to speak.

"He's beautiful," she blurted out, her voice wavering as the well-crafted speech Nathaniel had spent hours working on flying out of her mind. "Really, you guys, he's absolutely perfect."

Alistair beamed the satisfied, contented smile of a proud father. The smile Anora gave her was laced with the smallest touch of sympathy, a fact that pulled Eriana out of her baby daze. Without conscious thought, Ana launched into the script Nate had provided, formally congratulating the royal family on behalf of her Wardens and her people. She ended with her own words, "I'm so happy for you guys, and not just because of what it means for the kingdom."

The next few minutes were a bit of a daze as she tried desperately to free herself from the crowd of people in the main hall. She just needed some air, a few moments by herself to try to get ahold of the tumultuous emotions that were surging through her, threatening to escape. She really hadn't expected this, had thought herself to be numbed to the sickening feeling of loss that was welling up inside of her, and what? Over blonde hair? Was she really about to lose it over a fair-haired child? Would they all have this kind of impact on her? True, the only baby she had really been in contact with since that day was Ogren's son, and his fiery red hair was nothing like her daughter's. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself, leaning forward on the railing, looking out over the courtyard while the cold, winter air washed over and calmed the storm within her.

"You looked a bit shaken in there. Are you okay?" Aedan asked, coming up beside her.

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. "I'm fine," she said as she glanced over at him, leaning one hip on the railing as he looked down at her, concern evident in his gaze. "It's been awhile since I've been around any babies; I didn't realize how it would affect me."

Aedan nodded. "I understand. The smallest things can trigger a memory. I can be walking around our estate in high ever and catch a wiff of smoke or hear the men sparring in the practice yard, and suddenly, it's that cursed day all over again. I'm running through the dark hallways, dragging my mother along, desperately looking for Father, just knowing Howe men are just around the corner waiting for us. I see a shock of dark hair, and memories of finding my nephew's body come flooding back to me." He sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair, his own bright eyes shimmering with unshed tears as his own demons tore at him.

Eriana reached out and took his hand, allowing him to draw her into his side. Despite the massive amounts of fabric between them, she managed to mold her body against his. "I have to get away, Ana. There are just too many memories there."

A bitter laugh escaped her. "Believe me, Aedan, if it were as simple as offering you an escape, I wouldn't hesitate to initiate you into the Wardens, but you have no idea what you would be sacrificing."

"I don't care about my title; I don't even want it."

"I'm not talking about that," she said, looking up at him, her eyes deadly serious. "Aedan, being a Warden isn't just about sacrificing your titles or leaving your family; it's about giving your life, literally. This isn't some symbolic sacrifice to the greater good. Being a warden kills you, slowly, almost imperceptibly, but make no mistake, the moment you agree to join, your life is over. Don't you ever wonder why we can sense darkspawn? It's because we are connected to them, and that connection will eventually kill us. I am dying Aedan." She glanced over her shoulder at the castle where the royal family was still greeting guests. "We all are."

"Alistair too?"

She nodded. "That little boy will become king young, probably before his 20th birthday. But I won't be around to see it."

"Why? Hasn't Alistair been a Warden longer than you?"

"He has," she said with a sigh. "But I joined during a blight, so the taint is stronger in me. I'll succumb to it long before it overpowers him. That's why I can't let you join, Aedan. I couldn't condemn you to the life I have."

The nobleman looked at her, his eyes narrowed in anger. "If you knew all this, then why did you join?"

Eriana gave a small laugh. "I didn't know until long after my Joining. Besides, I didn't have a choice. I was about to be executed when Duncan conscripted me. My life was forfeit anyway; I may as well die for a noble cause."

Aedan stared down at her. his eyes wide, "What on earth did you do that you were about to be executed?"

Glancing down, Eriana mumbled softly, "I may have murdered the Arl of Denerim?"

He blinked down at her for a moment. "Wait, that was you? You killed Vaughan Kendells? Maker, my father hated him; always came home from Denerim complaining about him and forbidding me from ever spending any time with him." He paused, for a moment before continuing. "That doesn't sound like something you would do though. What happened?"

Eriana sighed, "It's a story for another time. Suffice to say, he had it coming. But back to the point at hand, this wasn't something that I would have chosen for myself, but I am grateful to Duncan for saving me. However, if I had known the truth and had a say in the matter, I wouldn't be here. That's why I tend to avoid conscription as much as possible. We are giving ourselves over to a terrible fate, and I will not force someone into it."

Aedan nodded, looking at her with new admiration in his gaze. "Alright, you were forced into this, so I can understand why you would hesitate to conscript people, but what about those of us who want this?"

"No one wants this. Not really. You want the legends, the myths, the pretty stories that get passed down and glossed over before they are deemed appropriate for the public." She looked up at him, her blue eyes shimmering. "Oghren is the only person who I inducted into the order who I knew before their Joining, and that was one of the hardest things I have ever endured. He traveled with us during the blight, so he was well aware of all the gritty details of our lives. Still, watching him, I vowed to myself that I would never again do that to someone I care for. I just couldn't, not to people who are important to me."

He tightened his arm around her, drawing her even closer. Her breath caught in her throat as he locked eyes with her. "Is that your way of telling me something?" he taunted with a slight grin. Not giving her a chance to respond, he dipped his head, catching her lips in his. She moaned, her arms entwining around his neck as his mouth attacked her, using the opening to deepen the kiss. Heat shot through her, setting in her stomach as a long buried need began to flame in her. Their tongues danced, fighting for dominance as his powerful arms pulled her tightly against him. His technique, to her surprise, was a little inexperienced, but what he lacked in skill, he more than made up for in passion, claiming her with an urgency that floored her.

Eriana broke the kiss, gasping for air and clinging to him still as his lips left hers and began to trace her jaw until they settled over her pulse point. He worked over the point with his lips and tongue, nipping at her, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

"We need to go back inside," he muttered against her neck, his arms loosening ever so slightly. "People will notice if we are gone too long."

Eriana groaned but unwound herself from him, straightening her dress as she cleared her head, trying to curb her disappointment. "I suppose you're right. People will be talking as it is anyway."

Aedan looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire that told him that joining the ball was the last thing on his mind, but he was right. The nobility would notice if they disappeared together. Whatever this was between them would just have to wait until later. Taking a deep breath, Eriana allowed the nobleman to lead her back into the throng of noble men and women, the unspoken promise of later heavy between them.

-0-

The night ended pretty much as it began with Eriana, with her alone in her room, silently cursing a piece of clothing. This time, however, she was struggling to get herself out of the massive dress, fumbling with the multiple buttons and ribbons that made up the dress with slightly intoxicated fingers and wishing that she wasn't alone. After she and Aedan had rejoined the party, the high nobility had moved into the main ballroom with the rest of the invited guests. The two of them reluctantly separated as Nathaniel came up to her. The two men exchanged strained pleasantries for a few moments before Nate had led her away to mingle and work the room, leaving Aedan to do the same. She managed to speak to most everyone, including Shianni, who was representing the Alienage and elven interests. Though the celebration went well into the early hours of the morning, Eriana and the Wardens bowed out as soon as it was socially acceptable.

That was how she found herself struggling to free herself from the silk and lace confines of her dress. As she was leaving, she had met Aedan's eye briefly and given him a slight shake of her head. Even though at the moment she had wanted nothing more than to bring him to her room, she knew that returning alone was for the best. It was strange how affected she had been by Aedan; she had felt more attracted to him than she had to anyone since before she joined the Wardens. His attraction to her had been obvious; it had always been obvious. However, she had never truly reciprocated those feelings. Not until tonight anyway. True, she'd always considered him to be handsome and kind, but that was it. Tonight, though, she was ready to drag him to her room and have her way with him. It was a feeling that had eluded her for a very long time, and it made her feel powerful, like she was suddenly a woman again.

Too bad there were far too many prying eyes lurking about the castle. Dragging him back to her room would be a terrible idea, especially considering most of the nobility already considered her a raging whore who was screwing the king, bedding the third most powerful man in the kingdom would definitely destroy what little respect she had garnered. With a loud huff, Eriana threw the dress across the room and crawled into the cold, empty bed feeling very frustrated. She wouldn't make Aedan into a Warden, but maybe she could arrange things to get him to Amaranthine for a little while. In the meantime,though, she had to get out of the palace. Maybe the Warden compound or Howe's old estate would be better for them. With that thought in mind, she drifted off to sleep.

~~~0~~~

Aedan glanced over at the elf riding next to him, unable to believe his luck. Though she seemed casual and relaxed as they chatted, he could tell that she was somewhat uncomfortable on the massive animal. That was all secondary, though, to the fact that he was finally getting to spend some time with her. In the two weeks following the presentation of Prince Cillin, Eriana had been mysteriously absent. Oh, she had been present at all the Landsmeets and formal meetings that happened throughout the palace, but every evening she disappeared into the Warden compound, a place he had struggled to come up with a reasonable excuse to visit. Not without seeming completely obvious anyway. Those all too brief stolen moments with her on the cold palace balcony had been the culmination of nearly three years of unrequited attraction, and he wanted more. Ever since he first met her when she had come to pledge her allegiance to his brother, he had harbored a raging crush on her, something that Fergus had teased him about incessantly. Now that there was a glimmer of hope with her, there was no way he was just going to slink back to Highever, and in his moments of despair at that thought, inspiration hit him, giving him an excuse to finally visit the Warden compound. It was a good excuse, too. He simply suggested that they travel out of the city together. Amaranthine was on the way to Highever afterall.

Which was why, despite Howe's grumblings about noblemen and all their luggage slowing them down, they had spent the last two days traveling together. Granted, the Wardens didn't travel with as much luxury as he typically did, forcing him to forego a full formal setup when they made camp, but it was still the most enjoyable trip he had taken in a long time. Eriana seemed so much more relaxed here on the road, clad in her light armor, surrounded by her trusted companions, with the sun on her face. He hadn't realized just how beaten down she seemed when they were at court. Here she was the embodiment of free.

"Before I left for Denerim, Fergus and I were discussing some of the changes you made in Amaranthine and were wondering if they would work in Highever. I was especially intrigued with the inclusion of elves into the guard, but I don't think that there is any training in our Alienage."

Eriana huffed amusedly, "And you think we Howe allowed the elves in his city to receive training? Please. That was something that we had to do." She glanced over at him. "You can't expect elves to pick up on combat overnight, but there are things, given our make up, that we elves tend to learn naturally. We generally have sharp eyesight and are naturally dexterous, so archery is often easier for us. The biggest problem was convincing the guard that it was a good idea. Even with me and the other elven wardens, it was a challenge to get them to accept those from the alienage, so that may be something you struggle with. It was worth it though. Once everyone saw how effective those changes were, they were far more open to other changes."

"So including elves would be the way to start all manners of social change?"

"We were nearly destroyed by darkspawn, so the whole city needed to be rebuilt or restored, so most people were desperate for help. But starting small worked for us; we'll just have to see how long it does. One bad year, and we may seen some harsh backlash."

Aedan shook his head, "With the Hero of Ferelden holding the reigns, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Uggh, I hate that title; I just wish people would…" she paused for a moment, stiffening briefly in the saddle. Everything then seemed to happen at once. Eriana threw herself into him, her impact catching Aedan by surprise knocking them off the horse and hitting the ground hard on his shoulder. Before he could move, his horse took a step back, stepping on his leg, and he could feel the pain seared through him as the bone cracked under the animal's weight. At that same moment, one of his guardsmen, the one traveling directly behind him, fell to the ground, an arrow lodged in his right shoulder. Eriana was barking out orders as she crouched over him. She was also muttering something in what seemed like a dialect of Dalish, but he wasn't sure; he was in too much pain to concentrate.

All around him, Wardens sprung into action. Warden Brendan tossed her a shield as he barreled past, running in the direction from which the arrow had come. To their left, two Warden mages were pulling the horses off the road, erecting a blue shimmering orb around them. Arrows were flying in both directions, and Eriana almost casually moved the shield to block each incoming volley. Just then, a pack of massive wolves burst from the woods beside him, running headlong into the fray, not that there was much for them to do. The attacking band was nearly dispatched before the wolves even got to them. Even through the fog of searing pain, Aedan couldn't help but be impressed by the efficiency of the band of Wardens. With Brendan leading the way, the hand full of warrior wardens charged the bandits, leaving them completely defenseless to the barrage of arrows from Nathaniel and a pair of elven archers, not to mention the two or three Warden rogues who moved like assassins, appearing behind and in the midst of the completely overwhelmed band. Aedan's own guard stood back, watching the Wardens work with ill-disguised awe. Only when Eriana barked at them to watch their flanks did they even draw their swords and begin to look slightly competent.

Soon, the sounds of metal on metal and the groans of pain stopped, and Eriana's team began to make their way back to the convoy. The largest of the wolves, a huge white thing, lumbered up to the pair of them, his tongue lolling to the side, giving it the look of a silly mabari puppy. Eriana gave the beast a pat on the head and spoke to it in Dalish. The wolf gave a happy bark, and it and the others dashed off into the woods.

"They're going to sweep the area to see if any of them got away," Eriana said casually, putting aside the shield and looking at Aedan for the first time. Immediately she called for Nico, and a lithe elven mage dashed over to them. "All of our healers are back at the keep," she said apologetically. "Nico is good with fireballs, but stitching up bones isn't his strongsuit. He'll get you braced, and we'll get Petra to look at you back at the keep. We can make it by nightfall if we hurry." She gave him a soft pat on the shoulder before looking up at Brendan who was coming over to them, wiping the blood off his sword. "Any injuries?"

"Besides Lord Cousland and his guard, there are no major injuries. They panicked once they realized how well armed we were, and weren't really able to land a blow after the initial attack. There weren't that many of them, and they were rather untrained. Nothing we couldn't handle."

"How many were there?" Aedan asked, pushing up on his elbow.

Brendan shrugged. "A dozen or so. They saw Ana at the front and assumed we were easy pickings, so they weren't ready for us. Bad move on their part."

Aedan's eyes went wide. These Wardens had taken out over a dozen bandits without sustaining a single injury. Eriana was gracious enough to hide her grin at his expression. Instead, she gave him another pat on his shoulder and went to speak to Howe and the others standing around the horses. Aedan laid back, trying to block out the fire coursing through his leg.

"We have a problem," Eriana said after she had made the rounds. The wolf cub she was holding was trying desperately to lick her face as she knelt beside him. Sir Brendan and Howe were standing with her. "According to the pack, it seems that there is quite a storm headed this way. It should be here just before nightfall."

"You can talk to wolves?" he asked, not really processing what she was saying.

"Not exactly. It's more of an impression really, feelings and images mostly, but this was a very clear impression. They're preparing to bunker down because it's likely to be a bad one."

"So, what's the problem?" Brendan asked. "If we don't break for long, we can make it back to Amaranthine before nightfall."

Eriana glanced down at Aedan's leg then over at his wounded guard. "Not at the rate we'd have to go to keep these guys from injuring themselves. That leg is in bad shape, so it'll be slow going."

Howe huffed. "Just send Niko ahead. He can fetch Petra and meet up with us sooner. Or he can just knock them out. They won't feel pain if they're unconscious."

"Um, knock us out," Aedan said uneasily. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"It's not like that," Eriana assured him. "Our mages have sleep spells that can keep you under for the duration of the trip. It won't hurt you and you won't feel a thing."

"Yeah, but…" and that was all he got out before a wave of magic hit him, instantly sending him into a deep, peaceful sleep.

-0-

There was a warm body pressed against him when Aedan began to regain consciousness in a soft feather bed. Sighing, the nobleman reached out toward the heat source when a rough tongue woke him up fully. Blinking confusedly, he glanced over and groaned. "Ramouth, get down. What are you doing up here?" he muttered as he gave the mabari a shove. Not that his sleep-weary push could have moved a determined mabari, but the russet hound gave a huff and hopped off the bed, lumbering out of the room. Now that he was fully awake, he glanced around, taking stock of his situation. He was on a very lush bed in a large, beautiful room; a roaring fire in the hearth threw light and heat into the room, warming it despite the howling wind outside the shuttered windows. He shift slightly, expecting a flash of pain in his leg. It was tight with a dull ache, but the searing pain was gone. Reaching down, he rubbed his hand over the unsplinted leg.

"We didn't cut it off, if that's what you're worried about," said Eriana, suddenly appearing in the room.

"My men?"

"About half of them are here; the other half stayed with your belongings at one of our safe houses just inside the arling's border. The snow was falling, and it important that we get here quickly, so we left the slower things behind. We'll get them here once the snowfall stops, giving us a chance to clear the roads."

Adean nodded, "And Samuels?"

"Your guard is fine. The injury was in the tissue of his muscle. One Petra got ahold of him, he was fine, should be swinging a sword again in no time." Eriana sighed. "I feel bad that he got hit, but that arrow would have taken you square in the chest."

"That why you tackled me?"

Eriana gave him an unapologetic smile. "We couldn't have you getting a mortal injury on our watch, now could we? How is your leg feeling?"

"Surprisingly good, actually. I've never really had on demand healing available like this. It's nice, even though you knocked me out to get me here."

"I've been transported the same way," she said nonchalantly. "It's better than being jarred around for the entire trip, believe me." She perched on the edge of his bed, handing him a cup of ale. "We will send a message to your brother once this passes, but considering how late in the winter it is and how bad this storm seems, you may be here for a while. We can blame your broken leg too if you'd like."

Aedan gave her a grin. "So, you think I need to stay for several months before it is safe for me to travel? What a shame."

"My feelings exactly," she said, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. He grabbed her, pulling her down onto the bed so that she was practically on top of him, drawing her into a deeper kiss. The elf gave a soft moan before pulling away. "You need rest."

"I can rest tomorrow."

Eriana gave him a short, quick kiss before nimbly leaping hopping off the bed. "Maybe I want you to be well rested tomorrow," she said before disappearing out of the room. Aedan sighed. This broken leg may very well be the best thing that ever happened to him. Smiling to himself, he allowed sleep to take him.

-0-

Alright guys, I'm working, I swear. I think I've got about four more chapters to go here, but I'm working toward a conclusion. Let me know what you think of this one. Oh, and that bit on the Orlesian birthing traditions, yeah, that happened to Marie Antoinette. Eww, right! And in case you were wondering, Cillin is an Irish name meaning "little warrior." Appropriate for Alistair's (defender of the people) son.