Sorry this chapter took so long to get up. When I had finally sorted it out, I couldnt log into upload it. Any hoo here it is in its glory.

I totally have a new thing. Instead of wringing my hands before me with a wide eyed look on my face, like Isolde was; instead I scratch my eyebrow. Probably to hide this fractured sense of this whole 'situation'. My eyebrow was most likely raw and near bleeding at this point. My eyes were watering but not because of any pain, but from the smoke. I had never been in a position to think about burning bodies at any previous point, let alone ones that had been reanimated as zombies, but I guess I had assumed there would be a lot of smoke. Especially from ones that were reasonably damp or wet, and how were we supposed to get the flames so hot to incinerate rather than smoulder. Oh look at me, actually having that sort of conversation with myself for the third time and not choking. Hell, I was copping a face full of pyre smoke every second and I wasn't gagging or fleeing.

Those still alive, and more impressed with Finn and Alistair that myself, had been straining to keep that pair, and I suppose by default Leiliana and Wolf, in view until the very end. While they had been doing that, I'd been thinking hard as myself and Maharial, as how to get these people to listen to me, to the orders that I really needed people to listen too. The people at the top of this list were the three VIPs Teagan, Perth (who by now totally hates me) and Isolde (who I don't really care if she does hate me cos I don't personally think that she is that hot at the moment.) But I was an elf, one who had threatened the son of the Arl and Arlessa, saved and Conscripted the one that had caused the whole fiasco that had stripped these people of their loved ones. Awesome, I'll sort this and still have time for tea. Bollocks. I had watched the people, at first aimlessly then with progressive purpose, move about the square and around the Chantry to gather their dead. Those from nights previous and the work that had taken place the night before. Not with a view to disposing of possibly reanimating enemies but instead for slow pyres for those they had loved. I was trying to summon the strength to walk down there and as a useless, elf, female, and force them to gather those bodies in a communal pile if you will, and burn the crap out of them in case un-Connor had saved up enough juice to send more bodies to us for another night of terror. But however I delivered my words or however I thought I delivered my words, whatever it was they saw on my face, they had done as I had said. Angrily, with hate filled glares shot my way, curses on me and my 'knife ears' and several other things I did not enjoy. But they did it. I could still recognise what it took for them to do this, more than what it had taken these average, normal people to scissor swords through those same once loved bodies the nights before we had got here. So I stood there, quiet and probably a nuisance. Probably. But I stood there, a presence. I wanted them to know that I didn't do it to spite them, that I could feel. That it meant something to me as well. And it turned out I wasn't alone. Kaitlyn. She came up to stand at my side, I could tell she peered at my face, maybe trying to figure out if I was crying or if it really was just smoke caused, but she soon turned to look at those below us who mourned together. Then Bevin, he took my hand. He was shivering, or rather trembling. But I tightened my fingers just enough so his tiny hand didn't fall from mine.

I stood there until those flames were no longer flaring, until just embers and ash remained. Murdoch stood there too and I knew that he would round the villagers up, would know what to say, and have them ready and vigilant in case what I feared would take place again. Kaitlyn smiled at me and then headed back to the Chantry, Bevin sliding his hand from mine,

"Ma serranas da'len."

I watched them as they moved away from me, eyes blurring as I switched to thinking of Jowan. He had been at the forefront of my thoughts ever since I had laid eyes upon him in that murky dungeon. I had thought I'd have to order them or physically stand before his door in order to stop anyone going for him, or ask Finn or Alistair to order them off before they left, but even if those people hated him with everything they had, they wouldn't touch him. Whether because of him being a blood mage or because he was 'mine' in the Warden fashion. I had left him contemplating a steaming tub of hot water, a plate of food shoved onto the dresser. But now, turning from what seemed like contemplation of a pile of hot dust, I saw the sky was not as pristine a blue. A herald that the night wasn't so far away. I lifted a hand to soothe my sore eyebrow and damn near walked flat tack into the wall of the very tall and very robust chest of Sten. He peered down at me, eyes slightly squinting as he tried to focus on the tiny elf far below.

"Afternoon Sten."

I offered, gesturing to the walkway.

"Would you like to walk with me?"

His answer was to move to step with me. Mince with me. Because every normal step of his was like a thousand of my own.

"You trust a bas saarebas, one who showed no loyalty to those that took him in."

Part of my very soul froze when he spoke. Any sort of attempted leadership coup was supposed to take place so very later and not with me. But true to form and me not knowing what the hell I was doing, my answer was quick.

"Trust? I think I would prefer to use the word useful. To me he is useful."

He looked like he was thinking, but I don't think there would be time when I could ever profess to ever know what was going on in the Sten's head.

"We stand, Sten, with a group of those, the only ones, against the blight. Whether they are here for their own reasons or not, they stand as an obstacle. You have seen the spawn, what they can do, even against those like yourself… when there is a foe such as the spawn, more than anything regardless of why they stand, the fact that they do is the only important thing. All that the Wardens need. For example Jowan. He escaped the Tower and evaded capture by Templars. He has power, useful power. The fact that he tried to return to the place that he ran away from shows me that he knows there are things more important than power. In my eyes this makes him more useful. The Wardens can give him purpose. I have given him that with his Conscription. If we do not have Jowan we have smaller power, we are a smaller obstacle. So I would not see him killed trying to the right thing; I would not have him killed because all that will do it take away a plank from my barricade."

I swear there was more in my head, about consequences, actions, right and wrong and belief, but what I had said seemed to make sense to me. And by golly it was the most I had spoken to the giant Qunari. Turns out it was enough. We walked in silence up the hill to the long path, Redcliffe castle looming before us. The open gates opening and yawning like a mouth. But I wasn't afraid. I should have been I think. While so far this was playing out similar to the game, there were enough differences to have my hair prickling on the back of my neck. Sten left me to stand guard as it were at the main gates. It also served to have that guard who had barred my way with Jowan previously standing back and straight as if under a superior's scrutiny. I wasn't aimless, by any means. But I didn't really want to see Jowan at this very moment. I think I was worried about what I had said to Sten; as if the very words I had used were spinning around my head – I don't think it was really even me that had said it. A barricade. I don't think that I had ever seen them like that. Now or when this had been a game and not characters of flesh and blood and emotion…

I hadn't gone up the stairs, but I also hadn't stopped staring at them for… You know I actually dashed a look to the wall adjacent as if to check the clock. Clock! I resorted to rubbing my forehead and then started scratching my eyebrow again. I hadn't spoken for a while, bar a few snapped words to a guard who tried to stop Jowan walking with me.

"Back off."

Not loud, but snappy. Jowan's eyebrows hadn't stopped from their worried angle. But he stood with me in silence as I watched that darkened stairwell. I really missed them. Alistair and Finn. Even when they didn't say much or anything, they had been a presence for a couple of weeks… God. It had only been literally days. Fuck, I hadn't thought of anything else since entering Redcliffe apart from demons, zombies and mages. What was happening with Mum and school and… Kane? Were they aright, the earthquake did it hurt them at all. God, what if they were dead? And then to fuel to my mental fire, I thought back to my last conversation with Finn,

"You seem pretty organised."

I shrugged,

"I try."

He totally wasn't buying it. But he had no choice really. It had to be done and had to be done now.

"What do you plan to do with Jowan?"

I grinned then, something I didn't really feel.

"I think you might be able to join the dots on that one Finn. I'll keep him alive until you get back, then we can sort that out. But first things first. Take care; don't let your guard down. I feel a bit prickly when I look towards the head of the lake."

"Dots?"

That analogy had to be thing that he took from what I had said. Seriously, I'm starting to think I shoulda been dropped into his body instead of this one. But then we would have way more problems then we do now. I mean a chick in the tall well tuned body of a Warden who looks creepily like the best friend she had on earth that had royally fucked her over? No, no spank you.

I reached to pat his arm. Apparently I thought that we were all friendly, friendly now. And he let me. Maybe we were good now.

"I know that this can't be what you want to do. What I think you want to do is either charge to Denerim to get the heads of Loghain and Howe, or go back to the Wilds for your brother, but this time duty has us doing this."

His back, already pretty ramrod straight went absolutely rigid and his face fell into blankness. I've really screwed this up. And the prickling of tears started in my eyes for what I had done to him. I did think him my friend, my brother Warden (shut up yeah I do) and I had brought that back to him.

"All I can promise you is that I will be at your side when you get Howe. I'll keep them off you so you can take him apart limb from limb. Is that enough?"

His brown eyes moved then, to look at me. I knew what he saw, short female elf in crappy fitting armour, but with vehemence in her eyes and hopefully truth.

"Help us stop the blight, it'll be enough."

He didn't believe that, neither did I.

"I'll do both."

And by the Gods, Maker, Andraste and the Creators, he fucken smiled! At me! Huzzah, day of days. Oh, but before I let the joyousness of this moment make me forget,

"Here, give this to Alistair."

I passed the small wrapped gift to him, I nodded and stepped back. You know, I didn't think that it would be this hard. No hugs, nothing like that. Alistair smiled at me and lifted his hand. Then I watched Leiliana and Wolf both skip to their sides and then the heavy door had closed.

I lifted my head, eyes focusing immediately on Jowanacross the room from me, arms crossed and eyes closed.

"Oh shit."

He hadn't told me about his family. Alistair hadn't told me. Not about Howe, not about Highever, not about Fergus, or anything… Oh shit.