A/N: Hey everybody, I apologize for the lateness of the chapter! I had a bit of writer's block/time block. And the time block might have helped cause the writer's block lol. Anyway, I got my inspiration back, so I carved out some time after work and finally got the chapter finished for you all. I have more free time this month, so I shouldn't be off track again. I hope to have the next chapter up by Monday the 21st, so a little sooner than two weeks after this one!

There is some smut again at the start of this chapter, so again if it's not your sort of thing, please skip down to the first break in the chapter. Everything following that is strictly plot-related. Hope you enjoy!

As always, thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, and read the story. I'm incredibly glad you are all enjoying it!

Special thanks go to my faithful reviewers, PheonixTears589, Valtharia, and Ioialoha. Love hearing from you guys! Thanks also to guest reviewer Sammantha (please get an account!). I'm very glad you're enjoying the story and that you like Ayla so much. I definitely plan to write more, so keep checking back. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW, EVERYBODY! It means a lot to me to get feedback!

Disclaimer: Don't own DA and related dialogue/characters. Ayla and everything else is mine however!

Chapter 29: Return to Redcliffe

Reaching the base of the mountain fortunately took a good deal less time than it had taken them to go up in the first place, likely made easier by the fact that for once nothing went wrong. The group had parted from Brother Genitivi a few hours ago as he made his way to Denerim while they continued on to Redcliffe. They had finally stopped to make camp in the spacious forest at the base of the mountain when the sun had begun to set.

Ayla was now currently searching for a spot well away from where the camp was set up so that she and Alistair might finally have some private time. Neither of them had a watch tonight, and she was determined that she was not going to wait any longer. They had yet to track down Bodahn to get their tents back, as he'd gone travelling to nearby towns while they were in the mountain, so finding somewhere out of sight was the next best thing.

She stopped at a small clearing, glancing around. It was secluded, surrounded by large trees, and still fairly close to the others, yet not so close that she could hear them. This would do perfectly, she decided, because she had no intentions of holding back. She'd done enough of that over the last several days.

She had never been quite as desperate with want as she was right at this moment, she thought as she began to head back to find Alistair. Not that she had ever spent so much time in the constant presence of a man she wanted without having the time or privacy to act on it, of course. She was also unused to the intensity of the feelings that she had for Alistair, which only made control that much more difficult.

She thought she'd been managing fairly well, all things considered, up until that moment in the Gauntlet where they'd all had to undress. She had been happily enjoying the sight of his marvellously sculpted backside and the strength of the muscles in his back that he'd kept turned to her, until the moment he'd confessed how close he was to losing control. That one statement had swamped her with such desire she'd almost lost the ability to breathe, and she had been forced to turn away in order to calm herself down.

Since then, though they had sat together and slept in each other's arms, they had, by unspoken agreement, not kissed once on the way back down. Ayla was afraid it would have been like a stray spark to dry tinder if he'd kissed her, and he must have felt the same way, for he had not tried once. And now, she was at the breaking point. It was going to happen tonight, and that was all there was to it.

She decided to check the stream by the camp first. They had also decided not to wash up together, since the stream was far too close to the others for comfort. She'd cleaned up first and gone on her search, leaving Alistair to take his turn while she was gone. He should be nearly done by now, she thought. It was nearing dark, but there was still enough light left to see by in the gathering gloom of dusk, and it was a clear night, as well. There would be plenty of moonlight and starlight later.

She grinned as a sudden idea occurred to her, just before she broke through the trees to see the stream opposite. As she'd suspected, Alistair was just leaving, wearing his cotton tunic and leggings with his hair still damp. He saw her coming and he smiled, his face lighting in a way that made her heart jump. "There you are. Did you . . find a good spot?"

She halted a few feet away from him, nodding. "I did."

He raised his eyebrows when she said nothing further, taking a step towards her. She took a step back, grinning. He paused, looking torn between confusion and amusement. "What are you doing? Come here."

She shook her head, her grin widening. "If you want me, you'll have to catch me first." She whirled and ran, laughing as she went back the way she'd come.

She heard his surprised curse behind her before she picked up the sound of his footsteps following her. She wasn't running at her full speed, since even without shifting she was pretty fast, and she didn't actually want to lose him before they got to the clearing. She wasn't counting on feeling his fingers brush the back of her tunic before they were even halfway there, however.

She started with shock before speeding up. She hadn't thought he was that fast, but she supposed she shouldn't really be surprised. She had noticed before that he wasn't as slow in battle as she would expect from somebody burdened with heavy armor and a shield; since he was now not wearing either, he would only be that much faster.

So she ran flat out, dodging between the trees and laughing breathlessly, enjoying the thrill of the chase. Eventually she broke through into the clearing, and was only a few feet in when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, halting her progress completely. She squealed in surprise as he yanked her back against his warm, solid body, wrapping his other arm tight around her as well. "I've got you now," he breathed into her ear, the low timbre of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

She twisted around in his arms so she could face him. While he allowed her enough room to turn, he didn't give her any room to move away from him, not that she wanted to. When she looked up into his eyes, the hunger in them made her heart beat double time. She slid her hands up to rest on his chest. "So you do. What are you going to do with me, then?"

"Well," he replied slowly, his face reddening slightly, though the hunger in his gaze didn't waver, "I have . . . sort of had this fantasy about . . . taking you up against a tree."

"Oh?" She tilted her head, grinning broadly at him. "Have I so corrupted my once virginal Templar that he's now having dirty thoughts about me?"

"Yes, my lady, you have corrupted me beyond belief," he said with wry amusement. "And that didn't sound like a no," he added.

She pressed herself into him, leaning up to say, "Alistair, it will never be a no. Now what are you waiting for?"

His answer was the sudden descent of his lips onto hers as he tightened his grip to haul her even closer. The first taste of his tongue as it slipped into her mouth was indeed like a spark to tinder, setting her entire body aflame. She snaked her arms around his neck, kissing him back with all her built-up longing and passion.

He growled into her mouth and cupped her buttocks, making her moan as he lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist to maintain her balance as he suddenly pulled away from the kiss and walked her backwards until her back hit a nearby tree trunk.

He braced one hand against the tree by her head, the other one straying to her waist and sliding under her tunic as he bent his head and nipped her neck just below her jaw. "You make me crazy," he mumbled against her skin as he trailed his mouth down. "I feel like I'm going to explode when I'm around you."

She arched and rubbed against him, revelling in the fact that he was already hard for her, that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him right now. "The feeling is completely mutual," she whispered into his ear as his mouth reached the collar of her tunic.

He grunted in frustration, pulling back and setting her down on her feet. Guessing his aim, she pulled her tunic off over her head. They quickly shed their clothes, and as soon as they were both undressed, he picked her up off her feet and pressed her back against the tree. One of his hands slipped between their bodies and stroked her folds, making her shudder as heat lanced through her. She held onto his broad shoulders tightly as she wrapped her legs around him again and leaned in to tongue the shell of his ear and nip his earlobe.

"As you are mine," she gasped breathlessly into his ear as one of his fingers circled her nub, "I am yours. So take me any way that you – ahhh!" she cried out, half in shock, half in ecstasy as he suddenly buried himself in her in one swift thrust, slamming her against the tree. She shuddered with relief at the feeling of him filling her so completely, a sensation she had missed so desperately over the past several days.

She barely even registered the pain of continually hitting the tree as he set a swift, brutal pace, one hand braced against the trunk of the tree as the other was against her back, keeping her tightly in place. She dug her nails into his shoulders and kept her legs firmly around him, meeting his every thrust. They had never exactly been gentle with each other, but Alistair was being rougher than usual, nipping at her everywhere he could reach as he drove into her.

Not that she minded; she found his loss of control utterly arousing, her desire spiralling higher and burning hotter with every moment. She couldn't stop the involuntary noises spilling out of her with every movement of his hips and touch of his mouth, and she could feel her body starting to shake as her release came closer.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark as his tongue brushed over her nipple, causing her to moan. "I love the noises you make," he told her, his voice breathless and rough with lust. "Moan for me," he nipped at her breast, "scream for me. Say that you're mine again."

Oh, Goddess. The fresh jolt of desire from his words nearly sent her over the edge. "I'm yours, Alistair," she panted, "all yours. I only want you."

He kissed her fiercely at her words, never breaking his rhythm, as his hand left the tree and squeezed her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple. That was the last straw; her release hit her, stars bursting behind her closed eyelids as she tilted her head back, breaking the kiss, and cried out.

"Maker, Ayla," he groaned as, in the throes of her release, she squeezed him tightly. She felt his thrusts go erratic before he exploded, pressing her hard against the tree as he emptied himself deep inside her, even as her body shuddered through its aftershocks. He leaned against her for a long moment, his face buried in her neck, as they both struggled to catch their breath.

Finally, he stumbled backwards from the tree, bringing her with him as he lowered himself onto the ground to lie down. She unwrapped her legs from his waist and lay across his chest, snuggled into his embrace, utterly content and at peace.

His hands were now infinitely gentle as he stroked her skin and brushed her hair back from her face. One hand suddenly stalled as it moved across her back and found a scrape oozing from the contact with the tree. "Oh, Maker's breath, Ayla, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed.

Ayla propped herself up enough to look at him; his hazel eyes were back to their normal color, though full of guilt now. "Sorry about what?"

"I – I was so rough . . . your back . . . I don't know what I was thinking. I've just . . . been wanting you so badly, and when you said you were mine, I - I'm so sorry . . ." Anxious guilt was etched in every line of his face as the words tumbled over one another out of his mouth.

"Stop," she ordered him, clapping a hand over his mouth. "You were rough, yes, but I loved it. That I can make you lose your control like that is incredibly arousing, believe me."

He pulled her hand away gently, his eyes wide. "Oh . . . so you . . . don't mind when I'm rough with you?"

She shook her head, smiling fondly at him. "Not in the slightest. I hope you don't mind if I'm rough with you, either. I know I tend to bite and scratch you . . ." She shrugged, trailing off.

"No, actually, I . . ." his face reddened a bit again as he ran a hand over his hair. "I find it . . . arousing, too. I - well, I . . . like it when you bite me. I wouldn't even mind if you wanted to do it a little . . . harder." His face was flaming red by the time he finished his sentence.

Ayla grinned, pleased that they were so on the same page with this. She'd never really been one for gentle, loving mating. Every once in a while was fine, of course, but she generally preferred a rough, tempestuous union. To hear that her life-mate was the same was far more than she could have ever hoped for. "I will happily oblige," she murmured, trailing a hand down his abdomen before sinking her teeth into his chest.

"Ah . . ." he sucked in a breath, his hand that was currently on her waist tightening as he arched up a little. "Ayla . . ."

She bit her way across his chest, deliberately hard as requested, as her hand trailed further down the muscles and contours of his stomach, until she found her target. Her eyes widened as she found him hardening even as her hand reached him. "Already?" she looked up at him incredulously.

He chuckled breathlessly, letting out a little moan as she stroked him. "Grey Warden stamina, remember? A Warden who has been . . . oh . . . sorely deprived . . . over the past week or more. I have . . . ahh . . . a lot of stamina built up . . . for you."

"Do you now?" she asked laughingly as she continued her long, slow strokes, making his hips rise involuntarily in time with her movements. "It would be a shame to waste any of that."

He reached down to grab her hand, halting her. "It would. But . . . I believe you promised to ride me into oblivion, didn't you? I think my punishment should be over by now."

She tilted her head, pretending to consider as she tapped her other hand against her chin, watching him as he looked up at her. When he gave her his puppy dog eyes, she couldn't help but laugh. "All right, I suppose you've been punished enough."

She pushed herself up with her hands and, getting into position, sank down onto him in one fluid movement. They both groaned aloud when he was fully inside her again. She could not believe it had taken her so long to realize that she loved him, she thought as she lifted up again and slid down, rolling her hips as she did so. The feel of him in her was so much more intense, better, and right than it had ever been before with any other man. The bards spoke truly; it really was better when you were in love.

"I love you," she said suddenly, unable to contain the feeling any longer as she began to pick up her pace.

His eyes had been shut, but they flew open at her remark, wide with surprise. He broke into that beautiful smile that tugged at her heart. "I love you, too, Ayla, so much I can't even . . ."

She interrupted him by slowing her movements to lean over and kiss him tenderly and thoroughly. She pulled back after a long moment. "I know; I feel the same." She began to rise up slowly only to slam down with a roll of her hips. After a few moments, as he panted and groaned beneath her, he seized her hips in his hands and began to move her faster, until she had to brace herself on his chest with her hands to keep from falling.

"Alistair," she rebuked him breathlessly, although really she didn't mind, "I'm supposed to be the one setting the pace here, remember?"

"I can't . . . wait any longer," he groaned as his fingers tightened on her hips, pulling her down hard again. One hand left her hip to drift over the swell of her bottom and squeeze hard. She gasped at the aching throb in her loins from the simple touch.

"I need you now," he growled, his hand returning to her hip to move her again. "Right now. You can ride me slower again later."

She chuckled softly. "As my poor deprived Warden wishes. Ohh," she moaned lowly as he hit just the right spot to create a delicious sensation. "Alistair . . . let's . . . break our record from last time . . . shall we?"

"Gladly, my lady," he gasped as he began to buck up to meet her hips as he pulled them down. "We have . . . a lot of time . . . to make up for."

And make up for it they did, as they spent the rest of that night testing the limits of each other's stamina, before falling into an exhausted sleep just before dawn.

The rumble of the archdemon's voice cut through Alistair's head, reverberating throughout his body. Try as he might, he still couldn't make out a single thing it was saying as it seemingly addressed the horde below. He could feel the heavy, sickening pressure all up and down his spine that meant he was surrounded by darkspawn, more than he could conceivably count, as they shrieked in response to the archdemon.

Suddenly, the archdemon flew up in the air, away from the horde, and let out an earth-shaking roar as it landed on a mountain, its head snaking around so that its yellow eyes pierced right through him. It's coming – it's coming!

He jerked awake in the next moment, sitting up in the tent, panting and trying to catch his breath. His whole body was shaking with reaction, and he could still feel the pressure on his spine and the pounding of his head from the archdemon's voice. It had been a while since he'd had a darkspawn dream – not since he'd started sleeping in the same tent as Ayla, actually. But this one – it was more than just a dream. He could feel it.

Ayla was sitting up next to him, her hand on his arm, her eyes bright with worry as she looked at him. "What is it, Alistair? Another nightmare?"

"I – yes," he answered, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. "I have to go talk to Aedan. Something – something wasn't right about it."

She nodded as he gently dislodged her hand and scrambled to his feet, pulling on his boots before he went to exit the tent. He was only wearing his leggings at the moment, as she was wearing his tunic, but he didn't care. He pushed aside the tent flap and went out into the night. The moon was nearly full, and the night sky was clear, so it was fairly easy to see in the camp, between that and the low-burning light of the fire in the middle.

He could see Aedan coming towards him from his tent as soon as he stood up, a wild look in his grey eyes. He was also only wearing leggings and boots, his dark hair mussed from sleep as he hurried across the campsite towards Alistair.

"You're awake!" Alistair exclaimed, meeting him halfway. "Did you . . . did you feel it too?"

Aedan nodded grimly. "I did. The roar – it . . ." he shook his head and winced, rubbing his temples.

"Not just that - it was like the archdemon saw us! Saw us!" Alistair couldn't shake the memory of the archdemon looking right at him, something it had never done before. "What does that mean? I think –"

He stopped when he heard the tent flap rustle behind him. He turned to see Ayla come hurrying out of the tent, still barefoot and dressed only in his tunic, which was fortunately long enough on her to nearly reach her knees. She was carrying his sword and shield, which she shoved into his hands. "Something's coming," she said before he could even ask. "Aedan, get your sword. Now!"

Aedan whirled around and headed back for his own tent without question, shouting for the others to wake up. As he did so, Alistair saw the shimmer pass through Ayla's body, and in the next second the panther was standing there where she had been. He didn't think he would ever get used to that, no matter how many times he saw it.

He heard it at that exact moment; the eerie, blood-curdling scream that could only mean one thing. "Shrieks!" he yelled, shifting his sword and shield into place just as the camp was suddenly swarmed with the stealthy, fast-moving darkspawn.

How had he missed them coming? he wondered furiously. He blocked a swing from a shriek in front of him and lashed out with his sword, only catching it on the arm. He dodged aside as it swung at him again. Had the dream left him so stunned and disoriented he hadn't been able to sense them? He could sense them now; there were a dozen of them, spread throughout the camp, attacking their party.

He rolled to the right just in time to avoid a blow from behind, using his shield to block another attack from the shriek still in front of him. Ayla leapt past him onto the one that had been behind him. He shot to his feet, lunging forward with his sword and running the other one through, following up by removing its head.

He could hear the sounds of battle all around him as he engaged another one, and could feel spells flying through the air as Morrigan and Wynne fought back against the shrieks. He tried to block the strike of another one, but was a little too slow as it managed to rake its claws across his chest. He hissed at the painful sensation, but managed to slice a blow of his own across its chest in return. An arrow sprouted of the creature's forehead before he could finish it off, and it fell forward to the ground.

He turned around just in time to see Ayla bring another one to the ground; he moved past her and caught the full weight of a leaping shriek on his shield as it tried to jump on her back. He staggered backwards, but was able to keep his footing as he stabbed it from behind. Yanking his sword out, he slit its throat, and it fell to the ground as well.

He brought his shield up again and turned in a slow circle, but didn't see any more immediately nearby. All around the campsite, the others were finishing off the remaining shrieks. Sten was the only one wearing full armor; the shrieks must have attacked during his watch. Fortunately, nobody looked seriously hurt.

Ayla changed back right in front of him, standing over top of the body of the last shriek she'd defeated. She hurried over to him, her brow furrowed with concern. "You're hurt!"

Alistair looked down at the scrapes across his chest; they were bleeding a decent amount, but they didn't feel too deep. Of far more concern to him at the moment was what had just happened - what he had just let happen. He shrugged. "I'm fine. It's just a few scratches."

She stared at him for a few seconds, frowning before she turned and began heading back to the fire, calling over her shoulder, "Well, at least come and sit down until someone can heal you, then."

He followed her over there, setting his sword and shield down before he sat down himself. She sat next to him, and one by one, the others returned to the fire as well. Aedan was the last to reach it and sit down as Morrigan and Wynne began moving around the fire, checking and healing injuries. Aedan rubbed a hand over his face before looking at Alistair. "What exactly happened just now? Was that because of the archdemon? They've never found one of our camps before."

Alistair thought it over before nodding. "I think it was the archdemon. I felt like it saw me, in the dream." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I guess it's like Duncan once said: we can sense them, and they can sense us. We'd best be more careful from now on. We're not safe in these camps anymore."

He felt Ayla's hand lace through his and she squeezed it gently. He returned the pressure gratefully. "We should probably all sleep in our armor from now on," she added softly. "Whether we have our tents up or not."

Sten was standing off to the side, arms folded across his chest as he watched the mages heal everyone else. "Fortifications should be built around the camps when we stop for the night. Or perhaps we should set traps."

"It will be harder to sleep here from now on," Wynne said quietly as she reached Alistair, beginning a healing spell and laying her hand over the wound on his chest. It closed rapidly as the warmth of the spell flowed through him. When she was done, she stepped away and moved on after he'd thanked her.

"How unnerving!" Leliana exclaimed from across the fire. "Being attacked in the middle of the night like that!"

Zevran snorted. "They call that an ambush? Amateurs!" He dusted his hands off in obvious contempt before glancing over at Ayla. "By the way, my dear, may I say how lovely you look this evening?"

She laughed at him, shaking her head. "Why, because I'm hardly wearing anything?"

Alistair glared at Zevran, fury bubbling in him as he noticed that the elf's eyes were indeed fixed on the length of her bare legs below the tunic. "Why don't you look somewhere else?" he demanded.

Zevran smirked at him. "But why should I deprive myself of such a vision of loveliness?"

Ayla squeezed his hand again. "Relax, Alistair," she told him. "No harm done; it's just my legs."

Before he could reply, because he was still furious at the elf, Aedan stood up. "I think we do need to change our camp defences, in case the archdemon sends any more night-time surprises."

Alistair sighed, deciding to leave Zevran alone for now after sending a last warning glare at the smirking elf, before he turned his attention back to Aedan. "What do you suggest?" he asked.

"Well," Aedan replied, his brow furrowed as he considered it, "I think either you or I should be on watch at all times from now on, so we can sense the darkspawn before they attack. That dream dulled your senses, didn't it, because of the horde that you could sense in the dream?"

Alistair nodded, slowly. While Aedan was beginning to sense the darkspawn, he still didn't have a full handle on it, meaning that they largely relied on Alistair's abilities for detailed analysis. But even Aedan's limited senses would be better than nothing. "I didn't even notice them until they were here. So yes, that might be best."

"Wait a second!" Ayla protested. "You two cannot stay up half the night every night! If you're going to do that, at least split it into thirds and let me take one of the watches! I might not be a Warden, but I can still hear or see something coming before any of the others."

"All right, we'll do thirds," Aedan agreed after a moment. "And traps might be a good idea, also. Zevran, Leliana, do you think the two of you could come up with some simple traps for a perimeter?"

The rogues nodded as Morrigan suggested, "Perhaps some magical defences might be in order as well. I could come up with a few things, I am certain."

Aedan nodded. "The more we can have, the better. And it probably would be best if everyone keeps their armor on at all times while we're on the road. Alistair and I will keep watch for the rest of the night. We'll be arriving at Redcliffe tomorrow before dark, so we'll implement all this once we're on our way to Orzammar. Everybody else, try to get some rest now."

Everyone agreed with the new plan and began to make their way back to their tents for the night. Ayla stayed where she was for the moment, looking up at Alistair. "I can stay up with you two, if you'd like."

He shook his head, smiling down at her. "No, you should get some sleep. We'll be fine."

She studied him for a moment before sighing. "Well, if you're certain, I will go back to sleep. But if you two want a break, let me know."

"We will," he assured her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before letting her get up and go back to their tent.

He and Aedan remained at the fire for the moment, and once everyone was back in the tent, Alistair asked quietly, "Do you think I was right about the archdemon seeing us, being aware of us? Or was I just imagining things?"

Aedan shook his head, looking grim again. "No, I think you were right. That was a deliberate attack on us by the archdemon. It knows who we are and where we are now."

Alistair sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. All he could see in his mind's eye now was the archdemon roaring, staring right at him, and visions of Ayla and all the others dead. "You know how other people want to be right all the time? Me, not so much."

Aedan laughed, though it had a hollow ring to it. "I suppose it is a depressing thing to be right about. But don't worry; this new plan will make it a lot safer, I think. And after we get a couple of days' rest at Redcliffe, we'll head straight for Orzammar, get that last treaty fulfilled. Then we can get rid of that archdemon once and for all."

Alistair stared at his fellow Warden across the fire, trying to see just what he was thinking, but Aedan was as inscrutable as he almost always was, unless his family came up. "Do you really think we can do this? Do you really think we can defeat the Blight?"

"I do," Aedan replied firmly, conviction ringing clear in his voice. "We've come this far already. Once we have Arl Eamon back and the dwarves on our side, we will march on the darkspawn, and we will succeed."

Alistair nodded slowly. "I hope you're right." There was no other way for them to go now, he knew that. He could only pray that it would all work out the way they wanted it to. If the ashes truly brought Arl Eamon back tomorrow, that would go a long way to making things right.

True to Aedan's prediction, they reached the walls of Redcliffe Castle the next day, a few hours before sunset. It had been a cloudy, windy, cold, and generally depressing day, but fortunately without incident. They had not run into any more darkspawn after last night's attack, not even any bandits. Nonetheless, they were all relieved to have the prospect of a warm bath and soft beds for the first time in weeks.

Alistair, especially, was looking forward to the day in bed he'd promised Ayla they would have. After the night at the base of the mountains, which was by far the most incredible night he'd ever spent, they had only found time for a few more trysts together, and not more often than once a night. They had, after all, needed some sleep and to share in the watches after their rare night off. But here at Redcliffe, he would have her all to himself for a whole day if he had his way, and it was moments like that that made this entire thing worthwhile.

The guards at the gate hailed them as they approached, and once they saw who it was, scrambled to raise the gate for their party. They passed through the courtyard towards the main doors. Alistair noticed that things had improved quite a bit already since they had last been here; the courtyard had been cleaned up, and knights were practicing using the dummies along the wall. More guards stood at attention at the top of the stairs.

The party made their way to the great hall, where Teagan was waiting to receive them with Lady Isolde. Teagan got to his feet as they approached, looking both anxious and hopeful. "You return. Might you have news?"

Aedan stepped forward, bowing his head. "We do. We have found the Urn." He produced the ashes from the pouch on his belt.

Teagan's eyes widened as they zeroed in on the ashes Aedan held. "You have? Wonderful! Let us go at once to Eamon's side and let us see if the Urn's healing powers live up to their reputation!"

Teagan and Isolde led the way from the main hall up the stairs to Arl Eamon's room. Once they reached the room, Teagan hurried over to the canopied, four-poster bed. A mage had been seated next to the bed, watching over Arl Eamon. Teagan held a hurried, whispered conference with the mage while they all gathered around the room. Aedan handed the ashes to Teagan.

Alistair flinched when he finally got a good look at Arl Eamon. He was pale, haggard, his cheeks and closed eyes sunken in as he laid in the bed, looking for all the world as though he were already dead, had it not been for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He clenched his fists together, praying that the ashes would work. He could not lose the man who had helped raise him, not after everything else he had lost.

Ayla stepped up next to him, looping her arm through his in a silent show of support. He pulled her in tightly to his side, seeking comfort from her presence as the mage prepared himself at the foot of the bed. Teagan stood to the right side of the bed, hovering over his brother's body.

They all waited with baited breath as the mage chanted over Eamon's body while spreading the ashes in the air above it. Suddenly, strange purple light flowed in waves upwards from his body. Right before Alistair's eyes, color and life seemed to return to the Arl's face as he stirred and groaned. Could the ashes really be working? he wondered in disbelief and amazement. Could such a miracle really be possible? He hadn't thought so, and yet, the longer he looked, the more it seemed that they truly were working as promised.

The Arl's eyes slowly opened. He blinked and coughed, before choking out, "Wh – where am I?"

Teagan stepped closer quickly, laying a restraining hand on the Arl's arm. "Be calm, brother. You have been deathly ill for a very long time. Do you remember nothing?"

The Arl's brows furrowed in confusion as they focused on his brother's face. "Teagan? What are you doing here? Where is Isolde?"

Lady Isolde, who had been standing back behind Teagan, moved up to his side, moving forward to take the Arl's hand in hers. "I am here, my husband."

"And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son?" the Arl persisted, sounding frightened. Alistair was relieved that they had succeeded in saving the boy; he didn't know how the Arl would have reacted otherwise.

"He lives," Lady Isolde reassured her husband, "though many others are dead. There is much to tell you, husband."

"Dead?" Arl Eamon closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Then . . . it was not a dream?"

"Much has happened since you fell ill, brother," Teagan replied softly. "Some of it will not be . . . easy for you to hear."

"Then tell me," the Arl insisted. "I wish to hear all of it."

"As you wish, brother," Teagan replied. He turned back to their party. "But first, I am sure you are all exhausted. I will get servants to prepare you a warm meal, baths, and rooms while I fill my brother in. Then tomorrow morning, once we have all had time to rest, we will decide our plan of action."

Aedan nodded in agreement. "That sounds most fair. We would appreciate some time to rest. We have been travelling hard for a few weeks now."

"Of course," Teagan said. He signalled a maid over. "Please show our friends to the rooms that they used last time. Have baths drawn up for them and a meal prepared. Make sure the same is done for the Arl."

"Yes, my lord," the maid answered, curtseying before gesturing to their party to follow her.

They filed out of the room after her as they heard Teagan and Isolde began to talk to the Arl behind them. She led them to the guest wing on the second floor where they had stayed last time they were there, indicating to each of them which room they were to stay in. As before, there were enough rooms for them each to have their own, and it had been assigned that way as well.

"We will have baths brought up for each of you," the maid informed them, "and we will let you know as soon as the food is prepared. Until then, you may rest as you wish."

"Thank you," Aedan told her as the others split up and each went to their own rooms.

"You are most welcome, my lord," she replied, bobbing another curtsey before she went down the hall.

Aedan went into his room as well, leaving Alistair and Ayla alone in the hall. "It actually worked," Alistair said in amazement, still hardly able to wrap his mind around it. They had not only succeeded in finding the ashes, but they had actually worked to cure the Arl's illness. "I cannot believe it. The Arl is going to be okay."

"You see, I told you it would be all right," Ayla replied gently. She smiled, continuing on, "I suppose the Arl and everyone would be horribly scandalized if I insisted on sharing your room?"

Alistair grinned ruefully down at her. "Unfortunately, yes, I think they would be. Things are a little stricter here in Ferelden." As much as he would love to share a room with her as though they were a married couple, he could only imagine how the Arl would react once he found out. He had already known that their day in bed together would have to be conducted in secret, once they had ensured that no one would be looking for them. And most likely in her room, not his.

"Well, no matter," she said, shrugging. "I'll simply sneak into your room later after everyone has gone to sleep."

"Will you now?" he asked, both amused and pleased at her determination to do as she liked. "I look forward to it."

"Good," she winked at him, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "I'll see you at supper, then."

He nodded as they parted ways, each going into their own room. He set his sword and shield down, and began to remove his armor. After several days of wearing the new set of armor, he had finally figured out a method to get in and out of it without relying on outside help. He let out a sigh of relief as he worked. Arl Eamon was alive and well. He would know what to do about Loghain and the rest of Ferelden. Just as Aedan had said, everything was going to be all right. They would succeed, and he would finally get the life that he had always wanted.