Together Or Not At All

by RogueHunter06

"What in the Maker's name were you supposed to do when you liked a woman?" It's a question Alistair has asked himself far too many times since unexpectedly meeting her in the Wilds. And though he knows he should be focusing on the Blight, he can't seem to help himself around her - from falling deeper into his attraction for her. *OC, Cousland Warden with Morrigan, M for lemons*

42. Confrontations

A/N: I apologize once again for the lateness of this chapter, real life got in the way again last weekend! Anyway, here is the new chapter for everyone, I had hoped to get to Denerim by the end of this chapter but it didn't end up that way. The story decided to go its own way. We will definitely get to Denerim in the next chapter, however, and I think there should only be about 10 more chapters to go before the end.

Thanks to all those who have read, favorited, and followed the story so far! I'd like to hear what you liked or didn't like as well!

Special thanks to Ioialoha, Candle in the Night, crowleyandthegoats, XZanayu, and Trojan20. I really appreciate the feedback :).

150th REVIEW GETS A GIFT FIC, PLEASE REVIEW!

Disclaimer: Don't own DA, its characters or original dialogue, do own the rest of this fic.

Chapter 42: Confrontations

They had returned to Redcliffe without incident following their run-in with the men Marjolaine had sent after Leliana. After Aedan had informed Arl Eamon that they had fulfilled all their treaties and were ready for the Landsmeet, the Arl had proceeded to send messengers to call the Landsmeet to order. He had then informed them that it would take several days for him to get everything in order to travel to Denerim, and they were welcome to spend their time around Redcliffe as they liked until then.

So, true to their word, Aedan and Ayla had set out for Flemeth's hut in the Korcari Wilds the next morning after their return to Redcliffe, accompanied by Alistair as he had promised, and Zevran as well. He had insisted that he would be bored if he remained behind in Redcliffe. The others, however, had declined to accompany them after hearing what they had planned, and Morrigan, of course, was unable to come along. She had sent a very large stock of healing potions with them just in case, though, and appeared to be quite worried about the outcome.

"You are not intending to actually fight Flemeth, are you?" Ayla asked Aedan quietly as they made their way through the Wilds. It had taken them only two days of hard travel to reach the Wilds, and with the help of the map Morrigan had also given them and the Wardens' ability to sense the darkspawn, they were making their way towards Flemeth's hut without any major issues so far.

"Well, I'd prefer not to," Aedan murmured as they slipped through a stand of trees as quietly as possible, "but I cannot say for sure what will happen. I won't allow Flemeth to do as she pleases, if what Morrigan claims she intends is true."

"No, and I wouldn't expect you to, but –" she glanced quickly at Alistair ahead of them, where he had taken the lead to sense where the darkspawn were so they could try to avoid them, and firmed her resolve. She had to keep him safe. "Morrigan learned her shape-shifting magic from her mother. Who is an even more powerful mage than she is, and somehow got the three of us down from the top of a tower. Meaning whatever forms she is capable of shifting into, may be quite large and very dangerous."

"I am aware of that," Aedan replied, sighing. "We will just have to hope that Morrigan is wrong, or Flemeth is willing to listen to reason."

Ayla let the matter drop after that, though she was still worried. She was certain that Flemeth was a messenger, or at least as close as Thedas had to a messenger, and it was one of the most forbidden things in her world to strike out at one. Not to mention, of course, the danger it would put them in if they did end up fighting her. She was far from certain they had the ability to face Flemeth and win. And the closer they got to the hut, the more her instincts protested, until the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end and goosebumps had erupted on her arms.

They finally spotted the hut in the distance as they came over a low rise. When Ayla squinted, she saw a figure that appeared to be Flemeth standing outside of it, waiting for them. Alistair was falling back to join them, now that they could clearly see the hut, and she poked Aedan in the arm, hissing, "If I'm right about who and what Flemeth is, she knows we're coming. She's probably even taken steps to make sure she will survive in some way, if we do end up fighting her."

"I get it," Aedan snapped in a low voice, looking exasperated, though she could see worry lurking in his eyes as well. "I will not fight her unless she refuses to listen to reason."

"If it comes to that," Alistair whispered, having drawn up next to them, "I'll do my best to stop her magic, but I doubt it will be of much help. Especially without me taking lyrium."

"And I will do whatever I can," Zevran promised, having caught up to them from where he was guarding their rear. "I even brought along a bow, in case long range is needed." He patted the bow and quiver of arrows he had brought along with his swords.

Aedan merely nodded, before picking up the pace and striding towards the hut and Flemeth in the distance, skirting around the clumps of bushes in the way. "Let's get this over with, then."

Ayla hurried after him, Alistair and Zevran on either side of her, and prayed that Flemeth was willing to listen. Otherwise, she didn't know what might happen.

They drew up in front of the hut and stopped a few feet away from Flemeth, who looked at them with such a knowing gaze that Ayla knew she'd been right; they were expected.

"And so you return," the old woman drawled, her eyes locking with Aedan's, who stood out in front. "Lovely Morrigan has at last found someone willing to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn't you say?" She glanced at Ayla behind Aedan. "I must admit that I am surprised to see you listened, as well. I thought you had better . . . instincts, shall we say?"

"I – I do," Ayla stammered, unnerved by the power she could feel lurking behind the old woman's gaze, and the instinctive need she felt to back down. She felt Alistair's hand touch her back, gently, and it relaxed her a fraction. "I just want to find out the truth."

"Yes," Aedan agreed, his voice firm as he drew the witch's attention back to himself. Ayla marvelled that he could sound so unconcerned as he continued, "We came to talk, Flemeth, nothing more."

"Oh?" Flemeth's eyebrows rose as she considered them. "How interesting. Speak, then. You have come far, and I am nothing if not hospitable."

"Morrigan found a tome of yours," Aedan began carefully, "and it led her to believe that you wish to take over her body for your own. We need to know if it is true. If it is, then -"

Flemeth laughed outright, interrupting Aedan completely. "Oh, I do like that. Ahh, but it is an old, old story. One that Flemeth has heard before . . . and even told. Let us skip right to the ending, shall we? Do you slay the old wretch as Morrigan bids? Or does the tale take a different turn?"

Aedan was tense and wary now, watching Flemeth closely. Though his hand was not near his sword, Ayla could see in his stance that he was nonetheless ready to draw it at any moment. "It's entirely up to you, Flemeth," he replied at last. "If you intend to harm Morrigan, then I have no choice. If she is wrong, and you do not wish her harm, then we will leave in peace. All I want is the truth, not more of your riddles."

"The truth, he says, as if it were nothing!" Flemeth snapped, looking annoyed.

Ayla quickly stepped forward, shrugging off Alistair's hand when he reached for her. Before Flemeth could say anything further, she asked, "Are you a messenger of the Goddess for this world? If you are, I know you are limited in what you are allowed to reveal. Just tell us, do you plan to hurt Morrigan if we let you go?"

Flemeth stared at her, frozen for a long moment before she laughed again, even more heartily than before. "Am I a messenger? Do I deliver the words of powers absent from this world? What an interesting question. Perhaps I am but a pawn, a vessel. Perhaps we are all pawns and vessels, tools of destiny to be moved around by those with greater power. You would know all about that, would you not?" She fixed Ayla with an intense stare, and she could only nod numbly in response. "We all have our roles to play," she mumbled, seemingly more to herself than anyone else.

Suddenly, Flemeth swung her intense gaze to Aedan, who stood straight, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. The old woman smiled after a long moment of tense silence. "Some of us greater roles than others," she said at last. "Very well, Warden, if you are so concerned about Morrigan, I will give you the straightest answer I can: I will not force her to do anything she does not wish to do."

Aedan's stance relaxed as Ayla breathed out a small sigh of relief. It wasn't, she knew, a complete assurance that Flemeth did not plan to take over Morrigan's body, but if she wasn't going to force Morrigan, that at least meant she didn't plan to bring her to harm, as far as Ayla was concerned. And since Morrigan could refuse to allow Flemeth to take her body, Ayla felt sure that her friend was as safe as she could be, for now.

"If Morrigan wishes my grimoire," Flemeth continued, looking to Aedan, "take it as a trophy. Tell her I am slain."

Ayla frowned. Morrigan hadn't mentioned anything about a grimoire to her, merely about the danger to her own life, but Aedan was nodding, looking unsurprised at Flemeth's words. She could hear Alistair snort behind her, as if that was all the confirmation he needed that Morrigan cared as much about power as anything else. Ayla didn't know what to think, but thought maybe her friend believed that she needed the grimoire for protection. She resolved to ask her when they returned, as it now looked like they would manage to do.

"And what happens to you? Will you come after her?" Aedan demanded.

Flemeth merely shrugged. "I go. Perhaps I surprise Morrigan one day . . . or I may simply watch. It would be interesting to see what she does with her freedom. Enlightening, even. Would you give an old woman that?"

"I suppose we could do that," Aedan replied slowly. "Do you think she will believe that you are slain?"

"We believe what we want to believe. It's all we ever do," Flemeth responded, smiling in an odd way.

"Then, that is what we will do," Aedan said at last, reaching out to take the key that Flemeth was now offering him. "As long as you agree to leave her alone for now."

Flemeth nodded. "As I said, I will merely observe what she does with her freedom for now." A smirk passed across the old woman's face as she continued, "It's far easier this way, don't you think? The lies are always more fun."

"Oh, I don't know," Zevran chimed in from behind Ayla and Aedan. "Random violence can be fun." When Ayla turned to glare at him, he amended, "But this is good, too."

"Yes, fun," Alistair added dryly from next to the elf. "Tricking Morrigan . . . oh, who I am kidding?" A grin broke out across his face. "That does sound fun. I'm a bad man."

"Alistair!" Ayla exclaimed, torn between amusement, disapproval, and discomfort. She wasn't entirely comfortable with lying to her friend herself, but she highly doubted that Morrigan would accept the explanation for why they hadn't killed Flemeth. This might truly be the easiest way, for now. Alistair merely grinned at her in response, looking completely unashamed.

Aedan turned to glare at them all, silencing them before he turned his attention back to Flemeth, who stated, "The book is inside the hut, with notes and spells enough to make even Morrigan blush with delight. You and I will not meet again. That I guarantee. "

Aedan nodded, giving her his usual courteous bow. "Thank you, Flemeth. I appreciate your willingness to listen to reason."

"Bah," the old woman snorted. "It is easy enough when both sides are willing." She waved her hand dismissively at him as she began to walk away. Aedan went towards the door of the hut, and using the key, disappeared inside.

"Flemeth, wait!" Ayla called, hurrying to catch up to the old woman before she left the area altogether, ignoring Alistair's attempts to pull her back again. "I have a question!"

"You have already heard all you need to of your destiny, have you not?" The old witch demanded as she turned to look at Ayla. "What else could you possibly need to hear?"

"I did," Ayla agreed breathlessly as she stopped before her, "but I just need to know if I might ever be able to see or contact my brother again someday. Do you know of any way?" It was probably too much to hope for, she knew, but if there was any chance she could see Mardin or hear his voice again one day, she had to know.

Flemeth's eyes went unfocused for a moment, as though she were reflecting internally, before she met Ayla's gaze and smiled faintly. "Perhaps. Perhaps one day, you will be able to communicate with him when you least expect it."

Before Ayla could say anything else, or ask Flemeth how to do it, the old witch turned away and began to shapeshift, casting the same spell that Morrigan had so often performed. Following her suddenly alarmed instincts, Ayla scrambled back and as far away from the witch as she could get, just before she shifted into an immense high dragon and flew away, her roar shaking the ground around them. Ayla, staring after her, was very glad they'd been able to talk to her rather than fight.

"Well," Aedan's voice, sounding a little shaky, came from behind her, and she turned to see that he had exited the hut just in time to spot Flemeth's transformation. "It appears you were right about her shape-shifting, Ayla."

"Yes, I suppose I was," Ayla agreed faintly. Though she'd expected Flemeth to be powerful, she had not expected that the old woman was capable of becoming a high dragon, but it certainly explained why she'd felt so nervous about confronting her.

Zevran and Alistair came over to join them, looking equally shocked and relieved. "Well, that random violence would not have been fun," the elf remarked.

Alistair snorted. "That's an understatement. We would have been beyond lucky to make it out alive if we'd actually fought her."

Ayla nodded in agreement, trying to calm her jangled nerves. "It does look like lying was the wiser choice. But . . ." she looked over at Aedan, reluctantly.

"I'm not very comfortable with the idea of lying to her, myself," Aedan admitted. "But I don't think she'll accept that we just let her mother go. So I don't believe we have any other choice than to pretend as though we defeated her. Though I'll do my best not to lie outright, and just tell her Flemeth won't bother her anymore, at least for now."

Wording it that way would make her feel better, Ayla realized. "Let's do it that way," she agreed. "It will make me feel a little better about it, at least."

"Can I count on the three of you to keep what actually happened here just between us?" Aedan asked, tucking the thick, leather-bound tome he'd brought out of the hut into his pack before looking at each of them. They all nodded in response, each pledging their silence in turn. "All right, let's get back to Redcliffe as soon as possible, then. I'd like to rest for a day or so before we set out for Denerim, if we can."

He set out back the way they'd came, and Ayla fell in behind him along with Alistair and Zevran. She couldn't help but feel relieved now, knowing that they had got through this trial unharmed, and better yet, that she might one day be able to talk to her brother again. She headed back towards Redcliffe in better spirits than she'd left it, hoping – though it might be in vain - that everything else would go as well as this had.

---

They returned to Redcliffe safely, running into only minor battles on the way back, and much to Ayla's relief, as well as Aedan's, Morrigan was only too happy to accept their story that her mother would not bother her anymore. So happy, in fact, that she didn't seem even remotely suspicious about the fact that neither of them ever actually stated that Flemeth was dead. She thanked them both profusely, enough that Ayla felt guilty, until she remembered how easily they could have died fighting Flemeth – how easily Alistair could have died over a favour she had agreed to. She felt much less guilty after that, and was able to act normally around Morrigan for the remainder of their stay at Redcliffe.

Fortunately, they had gotten back in enough time that they still had a couple of days before Arl Eamon would be ready to leave for Denerim. Ayla was as equally happy as the others to take the time to relax, though she did her best to stay out of the Arl's way, not wanting to see the disapproval in his eyes she was sure she would find. To that end, she and Alistair continued to maintain the pretense that they slept in separate rooms, although she still snuck into his room after everyone had gone to bed, and so far, it seemed as though the Arl was either none the wiser or didn't care.

Today, which was the last day before they left for Denerim, she decided to go find Bodahn outside the castle walls in the village. He had not accompanied them to Orzammar, but they had run across him on the road back to Redcliffe, and he had continued to follow them for the most part, occasionally stopping off at other villages to sell his wares or pick up supplies before returning to them. She had asked him a couple of weeks ago to see if he could procure a carved statuette for her to give to Alistair. She'd noticed him admiring statuettes at every shop and merchant's stall they'd seen them at, and she wanted to give him a gift, as she'd realized she had yet to get one for him.

It was on the way out of the castle that she began to get the distinct feeling someone was following her. She started listening more carefully, and sure enough, it sounded like someone was behind her, keeping a certain distance between them, but still never losing sight of her. A shift in the wind brought the scent of an unfamiliar man to her nose, and she frowned. Perhaps she was just being paranoid; it could be that someone was heading to the village, the same as she was, but the tingling along her spine suggested otherwise. She decided to wait, however, and see if the man continued to follow her.

She went to the village and found Bodahn and his cart, where she was pleased to find that he'd picked up a small statuette of a stone warrior, which she was sure would be perfect. She paid him for the statuette, as well as several more supplies that she'd stocked up on for the journey, though she left those behind at the cart, before she began to head back through the village to the castle. She'd spotted the man watching her from a distance while she talked to Bodahn; he was dressed inconspicuously in homespun brown garments, making it appear as though he was a common villager, but she could tell by the way he carried himself that he had spent a great deal of time on the battlefield. And now that she was on the move again, he'd gone back to following her at a discreet distance.

She sighed, having a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly why he was following her and who had put him up to it. She slipped quickly around the corner of a house and waited in the shadows along its wall for him to follow. Sure enough, the man came around the corner and, not seeing her in the shadows, began to walk right past her. She quietly drew two of her daggers as he walked past, and in a flurry of movement, had him pinned against the wall of the house, one dagger at the point of his throat, the other against his leg, high up on his thigh in an place that was as equally lethal to strike at as a neck. If he attempted to move or use his strength against her, it would be a simple matter for her to plunge both daggers in, and she knew by the slight widening of his eyes that he realized the position he was in.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded, glaring at him.

The man stared at her, his eyes wide in surprise, though there was little fear, further confirming her suspicion that he wasn't a common villager. Though he did his best to pretend as though he was afraid, stammering, "I – I don't know what you're talking about. I – I was just –"

"Don't lie to me," she snarled, pressing the points of both daggers into his skin just enough to cause a small amount of blood to well up. The man sucked in a breath as she continued, "I don't take kindly to being lied to. You've been following me since I left the castle. Why? And if you lie again, I'll make you regret it." She leaned just a fraction more on both daggers, and he winced.

"Okay, okay," the man conceded, holding up both his hands defensively. "You're right, I was following you. I was asked to keep an eye on you whenever you went anywhere alone or without –" he suddenly halted, his mouth snapping shut.

"Go on," she pressed, digging in the daggers a little deeper yet. "You were about to say 'without Alistair', weren't you?"

The man sighed in defeat. "Yes. If you went anywhere alone or without him, I was ordered to follow you and discover everything you did while you were gone, and then report back."

"Report – back – to – who?" she said each word slowly, clearly, with thinly veiled anger under tight control, though she already knew perfectly well what the answer was, and was only seeking verification.

The man scowled, shaking his head. "I'm not going to –"

"Not going to tell me?" she interrupted, feeling her fury mount. She pressed the dagger against his thigh just a little bit more and twisted it sharply, causing his breath to hiss out in pain as blood trickled down his leg. "You may want to reconsider your answer before I get truly angry."

He stared stubbornly at her, but as she continued to twist the dagger deeper and deeper into his leg, he finally gasped out, "Fine, I'll tell you." She let up the pressure, though not enough to let him escape. "It was the Arl. Arl Eamon asked me to follow you."

"Thank you," she replied, feeling both satisfied that her suspicion was confirmed, and strangely hollow at the same time. "Now, I'm going to let you go. If I find you following me again – and trust me, I will if you try it – I will not be quite so merciful. Do you understand?"

"Yes," the man replied shortly, looking thoroughly humiliated, and, she was pleased to note, slightly terrified. She pulled the daggers away, taking a few steps back, although she watched him carefully for any sign that he was going to try to fight. He didn't, however, merely turned away from her and began heading back to the castle, limping slightly as he went.

It was time she talked to the Arl, she decided as she cleaned her daggers, tucking them away, and headed towards the castle herself. It was clear he hadn't given up on his attempt to split her and Alistair apart; he'd clearly hoped to find something he could use against her to get Alistair to leave her. What he'd hoped to find, she had no idea. Some evidence of betrayal, either romantically or otherwise, she suspected, or some evidence that she didn't love Alistair. He wouldn't have found anything, of course, but she wasn't about to risk a spy of his finding out that Alistair had no intention of becoming king before they were ready for the Arl to know. So it was time she confronted him and got him to stop his scheming.

She heard the sound of cheering as she approached the castle gates, and as she stepped through them, she saw why. A crowd comprised of Redcliffe's knights and servants, as well as the other members of their party, was gathered around the practice yard inside the gates, watching Alistair and Aedan spar. Though they were fighting with blunted tourney swords, they were still in full armor and she could tell they were going all out against each other. As she paused for a moment to watch, Aedan swung his sword around in a lethal arc at Alistair's head. Alistair ducked just underneath the swing, bringing his shield up enough to deflect the sword above him as he slipped inside Aedan's reach and swung his own sword at the back of Aedan's leg, knocking him flat on his back.

Before Alistair could bring his sword down to take advantage of the manoeuvre, however, Aedan had rolled out of the way and sprung back to his feet. In the next second, he'd brought his sword around against Alistair's back, sending him stumbling forward. As the crowd roared its approval, Alistair was equally quick to recover, spinning back around and catching Aedan's next blow on his shield, digging in and throwing his weight behind the block to send Aedan back a couple of steps. The fight continued on in much the same manner, as the two traded blows with rapid precision to the admiration of the crowd watching.

And Ayla's admiration, too, of course. There were few things that fired her blood more than a well-fought battle, whether she was participating in it herself or not. And her mate cut an awfully fine figure on the battlefield, she couldn't help but notice. She'd never had the time to just watch him fight before, and though she knew he was skilled, it wasn't the same as actually being able to see the deadly grace and strength with which he fought. She could feel the fire racing through her veins, her body aching with longing to drag her handsome warrior away and engage him in an entirely different type of sparring.

But now wasn't the time, she reminded herself, giving her head a firm shake. She didn't see the Arl anywhere in the crowd watching, which meant this was the perfect opportunity to go talk to him, while the majority of the castle was distracted. She tore herself away from the fight with reluctance, weaving her way through the crowd and up the steps, heading into the castle.

She knew exactly what Alistair and Aedan were up to, she thought as she made her way through the halls of the castle. Besides practicing for their own sake, they were also showing those following them just what the Wardens were capable of and just how skilled they were in battle. It was a way to boost the morale of those who were about to follow them against the darkspawn, and to boost their confidence in the Wardens who were about to lead them in battle. It was really an excellent move, and she wondered which of them had come up with it – and who was going to win. She regretted not getting to stay and watch.

But she had something more important to do right now. She questioned one of the servants and found out the Arl was in his study. She made her way there with the directions given, and knocked on the closed door when she reached it.

"Enter," the Arl called from inside, no doubt expecting a servant or one of his knights.

She opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her. The Arl looked up as she did so, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise as a quick frown passed over his face, before his expression rapidly changed to one of blank courtesy. She couldn't help but admire the quick switch. "You are Ayla, yes? One of Alistair's companions? Do you have some business with me?"

She almost snorted, but managed to cover it up. As if he didn't know exactly who she was and what she was likely to be doing here. "Yes, I do have some business with you. I thought it was long past time you and I discussed a few things." She watched his eyes narrow, guessing he was probably annoyed she hadn't addressed him properly. She knew the proper courtesies of nobility as well as Aedan did, of course, but she couldn't bring herself to address him as "my lord" when in her own land, she would technically outrank him, as both a Lieutenant of the Order and a daughter of the Clan of Swords.

"Oh? And what sort of business might I have to discuss with a mercenary?" the Arl asked coolly, putting special emphasis on the last bit.

She sighed, sitting herself down in the chair across from him without asking, leaning back comfortably. "I'm not much for beating around the bush, so I'll just go ahead and say it. I would appreciate it if you stopped trying to interfere with my relationship with Alistair, particularly since you gave him your word that you wouldn't."

The Arl's eyebrows shot up, and he gaped at her for a second before he recovered himself. "I am quite certain I do not know what you are talking about."

"I am talking about when you asked Zevran to try to get me into a compromising position with him so Alistair could find out," Ayla responded evenly, keeping her gaze level with the Arl's and taking a small measure of satisfaction from the flash of surprise she saw there. "And, most recently, the man you sent to follow me around when I go somewhere without Alistair. I presume you were trying to find something else to use against me since Zevran refused your offer."

Arl Eamon scowled at her, folding his hands carefully on the desk. "I do not take kindly to slander and accusations, I'll have you know."

Ayla struggled to control her temper, knowing that getting angry with the Arl would only make the situation worse. "And I do not take kindly being lied to," she stated icily, "as I informed your spy a few minutes ago. At any rate, you can keep pretending you don't know what I'm talking about, but I will inform you that if I find anyone else following me, or any of the others, I will not hold back again."

The Arl regarded her expressionlessly for a long moment before he said, "And just what makes you think I hired this person you claim was following you?"

"Because he told me you did," she replied sweetly, "after a little . . . persuading." She casually spun her dagger around in her hand, leaving little doubt as to how she'd gotten her answer.

"Very well," Arl Eamon conceded, "perhaps I have been taking some measures against your relationship. However, it is only in Alistair's best interests that I have done so. It will be very difficult for him if he continues to believe that he is in love with you, especially once he takes the throne and weds another woman." Ayla clenched her hand tightly around the hilt of her dagger until it pained her, at the thought of Alistair, her mate, marrying someone else. The Arl went on as though he hadn't noticed, "It would be best if he is broken free of this . . . illusion before then. You must know you won't get to be queen, so what would it take to get you to back away? Would you like money, or a position of power, or –"

"Allow me to save you some time," she interrupted him, speaking through gritted teeth as she tried her very best to manage her temper. "There is nothing – I'll repeat this so you might understand – nothing – you can offer me, or say or do, to get me to leave Alistair. I will only ever leave him if he tells me to do so."

"I think you're underestimating just how much money I can provide –" the Arl began, but Ayla cut him off when she slammed her dagger, point-first, down into the desk.

"Are you actively not listening to me?" she asked, her voice deadly quiet. "You could provide me with all the riches in Thedas and I wouldn't leave him. I know you think I'm nothing but a gold-digging mercenary, but I do truly love him. And of the two of us here, you are the one acting with the least nobility right now as you try to break your word to Alistair. It is only because I think you truly believe you're acting in his best interest in the long run that I have not told him what you've been trying to do. If you continue, however, I will have no choice but to shatter his illusion of you as someone who actually cares about him."

"How dare you?!" Arl Eamon demanded, getting to his feet, his face twisting in rage. "I do care about him, and I am acting in his best interests, as I have all along! It is you that is trying to use him –"

"I'm trying to use him?!" she snarled, getting to her own feet as well as she slammed her hands down on the desk. "You're the one who's trying to use him for your own ambition, so you can be the power behind the throne! After all, who else would Alistair turn to for advice, once he's all alone on the throne, but the man who raised him – if you could call it that?! Did you have his best interests in mind when you tried to quash any self-confidence he might have ever had, by explaining over and over to him that he was nothing but a bastard? Did you have his best interests in mind when you made him sleep in the stables, when you sent him away from the only home he'd ever known to be raised in the Chantry because your wife didn't approve of him?! When you made him feel inferior his entire life, before you decided to try to force him into a role that you made sure he was unprepared for?!"

The Arl gaped at her wordlessly, the rage draining off his face until he suddenly looked old and weary. "Is that – is that truly what he thinks of me?" he asked softly, as he sank down into his chair.

"No," Ayla muttered, feeling suddenly tired herself as her temper left her and she sank back into her own chair. "That's what he should think of you, but he's much too good of a man for thoughts like that to ever occur to him. Instead, he thinks he owes you – so much so that he was bending over backwards trying to save you and your family, to gain your approval. You mean a lot to him, and he wouldn't want to believe that you would try to go against your word like this. And I don't want to have to tell him that you did."

Arl Eamon studied her for a long moment, before a faint smile came over his face. "It appears I have misjudged you. Having heard your passionate defense of him and seeing how reluctant you are to hurt him with what I've done – even when it would be to your benefit – it seems that you do truly love him, after all." He sighed, a pained expression coming over his face. "Which is why I am sorry to say that he still cannot be with you when he becomes king. The Landsmeet would not allow it."

Except that he's never going to become king, Ayla thought, but she knew that Aedan wasn't ready for that part of the plan to be revealed yet. He didn't want the Arl to know until after he'd spoken to Anora, and they could be sure that she would take the throne without her father, leaving Alistair free to do as he liked. So she merely said, "I know that. All I am asking is for you to hold to the original agreement. Allow us to be together until he becomes king, without interfering. If you agree to do that, I won't tell him anything that happened. But, if I find any more evidence of you trying to interfere . . ."

The Arl nodded. "I understand. Very well, if that is what you both wish, I will leave things alone until Alistair becomes king. At which time, he will have to hold to his end of the agreement."

Ayla merely nodded in response, not trusting herself to actually say anything in reply. She was fairly sure if she did, she'd end up slipping and saying something like "if that happens" which would only make the Arl suspicious. "I will take my leave, then," she said quietly, standing up and taking her dagger out of the desk before she turned to leave.

She'd nearly reached the door when the Arl said softly, "You'll take care of him, won't you? During the battles with the darkspawn and whatever else you encounter?"

"You don't even have to ask," she replied, before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her. She sighed heavily as she walked down the hallway, feeling suddenly exhausted. That encounter had also ended up going far better than she had expected, but it had been emotionally draining. And now she couldn't even hate the Arl like she'd wanted to, but was instead, feeling reluctant respect for him. She sincerely hoped he wasn't too angry with Alistair once he found out what they actually intended to do, and that he would eventually forgive them for it.

She decided to head down to the practice yard and see if the fight was still going on. It might be just the thing she needed to lift her spirits after her confrontation with the Arl. She made her way back through the hallways and out the main doors, discovering that she wasn't too late to see the end after all. The crowd was still gathered around, cheering and shouting, and she made her way down to the sidelines, as close as she could get, to watch.

They weren't moving as rapidly as they had when she'd passed through earlier, and were starting to show signs of tiring, but were still fighting hard as they continued to trade blows. As she watched, Aedan nearly knocked Alistair's feet out from under him, but Alistair managed to regain his balance after only a stumble or two, lashing out at Aedan with his shield again.

She'd ended up between Zevran and Sten on the sidelines, and the elf grinned at her. "So, do you believe your Warden will end up the victor, my dear?"

She smiled in answer, feeling better already as she watched the two Wardens spar, her blood starting to fire up again. "They are well-matched, but yes, I believe Alistair will win out in the end."

Sten grunted in agreement from next to her. "It is the swords they use. The greatsword is carrying more weight than he is used to." He nodded at Aedan. "I do not see why they feel the need to use them in the first place."

Ayla had seen the same thing; the blunted swords they used were not their own, but the ones the Arl's knights had on hand for training, and the greatsword was slightly larger and heavier than the one that Aedan normally used. As a result, his reaction time was slowing and his swings were getting just a bit clumsier. Even so, she felt that Alistair would win anyway, though it would likely take a good deal longer if Aedan had a better sword. As skilled as Aedan was, he hadn't been fighting in serious battles for as long as Alistair had, and that slight edge of experience in life-or-death fighting would have given Alistair the advantage anyway, she felt sure.

"It's customary to use them here when you are only fighting for practice," she told Sten. "So that they don't accidentally end up seriously injuring or killing one another."

The qunari snorted. "We have never used blunted swords in training fights. If a qunari ended up dying because of it, it would merely show that he is not skilled enough. The Wardens are not so unskilled that they require such measures."

Ayla smiled, exchanging an incredulous look with Zevran. It was the closest thing either of them had ever heard to a compliment coming out of the qunari's mouth, although she personally agreed with Sten's assessment. Neither Warden had come close to delivering an accidental fatal blow, in spite of going all out against one another.

"Truer words were never spoken, my friend," Zevran declared. "Alas, the Wardens must follow the rules set out by other mere mortals, so as not to intimidate them too greatly."

Sten merely grunted in answer to that, and Ayla stifled a laugh, impressed that Zevran had come up with a satisfactory answer for the qunari so easily. She turned her attention back to the fight, just in time to see Aedan swing hard at Alistair's chest. Alistair dodged backward, just barely out of range, and the instant the greatsword had swung past, stepped right up to Aedan and bashed his side full-on with his shield, throwing the whole weight of his body behind it, knocking Aedan clean off his feet and sending his sword spinning away. In the next instant, before Aedan had the chance to roll away, Alistair had stepped over him and pressed the blunted tip of his sword to his throat. "Do you yield?" Alistair demanded, sounding slightly breathless.

Aedan held up his hands and grinned wryly. "I yield," he replied, "you defeated me fair and square."

Alistair grinned, tossing his sword aside, before reaching down and pulling Aedan to his feet. "I don't know about that, you needed a better sword."

Aedan was shaking his head, but Ayla couldn't hear what he said in response to that, as the cheers had grown too loud. The crowd surged forward, and the knights surrounded the Wardens, clapping them on the back, congratulating Alistair, who was grinning and blushing at the attention, and exclaiming over their favourite parts of the fight to both Wardens. Most of the rest of the crowd began to slowly disperse, going back to their regular business, though Ayla could overhear snatches of conversation about the fight as they went.

Most of the men that had been in the crowd were saying similar things to the knights still gathered around the two Wardens; how well they'd fought, what moves and counter-moves they'd been most impressed by, or other such things. She could hear the women, however, saying how brave and handsome both Wardens were, how fine they looked in their armor, how thrilling the fight had been. She almost felt like growling at two of the women who were being especially vocal in their praise for Alistair, glancing over their shoulders at him and giggling. She decided she had a much better idea, though.

She began to weave her way towards Alistair through the knights surrounding him, noticing the knowing look and wink Zevran gave her as she went. When she reached Alistair, she slipped between the two knights standing directly in front of him. "Excuse me, good sers, but I need to borrow your champion for a moment," she told them.

"Ayla?" Alistair asked, looking down at her in surprise, though she could see heat starting to flare up in his eyes as soon as his gaze landed on her. "Were you watching?"

"I got to see the end," she replied in a low voice, feeling the fire in her blood and the aching longing in her body rising to a fever pitch in response to the look he was now giving her. "So I thought I'd give a prize to the victor."

She hooked her hand in the collar of his plate armor, and yanked him down to her level to claim his mouth in a heated, demanding kiss. He was frozen for a second before he growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through her deliciously as his arms went around her and hauled her close, his tongue sweeping through her mouth with raw, urgent need. It was only the whistles of the knights still there that brought them both back to reality; in all honesty, Ayla had been fully ready to stake her claim right there without a care for who saw, but Alistair pulled back, releasing her, his eyes nearly black with lust.

"Say, would you give us a prize like that if we won a fight?" one of the knights asked from behind her. Alistair scowled, looking like he was about to start a far less friendly fight, but she put a hand to his chest to stop him and turned to the knight.

"I might consider it," she told him sweetly, "but only if you win in a fight against him. Do you want to try it?"

She nearly laughed when the knight's eyes shot to Alistair, who she knew would be glaring murderously at him, and he rapidly shook his head. "Ah, no, that's quite all right, my lady. We'll just . . . we'll be going now."

The remaining knights beat a hasty retreat, leaving only their party in the center of the training yard, and Ayla was pleased to note that the women who had been talking about Alistair were nowhere to be seen, either. She only hoped they'd gotten a good eyeful and realized he was not available. She tried to cool the fire in her body as much as possible now that her goal was accomplished, knowing this was not the time to do what she very much wanted to.

"I thought we were being more discreet here in Redcliffe?" Alistair asked her, though he was smiling. She could see that he was struggling to bring himself under control as well, taking deep breaths as the lust slowly faded from his eyes.

She could overhear Aedan asking Morrigan if he got a consolation prize as she innocently replied, "What do you mean? That was discreet, I only kissed you." She didn't think, after the talk they'd had, that the Arl would bother to lecture Alistair over such a thing as a kiss, no matter who had seen. She felt that they had finally come to an understanding and that the Arl would truly leave them alone now until the Landsmeet. Unless, of course, they went completely overboard. With that in mind, she intended to take full advantage of whatever she thought they could get away with.

"Yes, but it was front of half of the castle staff and all of the knights," Alistair pointed out dryly. "In case you didn't notice."

"Oh, she did, my Warden friend," Zevran assured him cheerfully. "In fact, I think that was rather the point, to make sure that the women in the castle all saw."

"Thanks for the help, Zev," Ayla murmured to the elf, who smirked at her in reply.

"Oh, is that what it was about?" Alistair asked, a smug smile spreading over his face. "You were jealous?"

"I was merely showing them that you weren't available," Ayla replied airily, ignoring Zevran's chuckle. "That's all."

"Oh, of course," Alistair replied, striving for a sober tone, though his grin was still firmly in place. He slipped an arm around her waist, steering her back towards the door. "Well, shall we go get something to eat, now that they all know that?"

"Yes, let's," she agreed, following him towards the door, as the rest of their party followed behind. She felt a great deal better now, her emotional exhaustion from earlier completely gone. Everything was working out better than she had ever expected since returning to Redcliffe, and she felt it had to be a good sign, an indication that things would continue on that path. And one day soon, she would be able to claim Alistair as her mate for everyone to see. All they needed to do was get through the Landsmeet first.