A/N: Only a couple of days later than I planned which isn't too bad, it's still pretty much within the biweekly deadline! You get a triple POV chapter again this time, it starts with Aedan, goes to Ayla, and finishes with Alistair. Next chapter will be the Landsmeet finally! Hope everyone enjoys :).

Also, if anyone's interested, the gift fic for the 150th review has been posted as the second chapter of my other "story" It Came As a Shock, which is more going to be a collection of one-shots and gift fics I think. Check it out if you're interested - it's focused on Morrigan and Aedan - and let me know what you think!

Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, and read the story - I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Special thanks to my faithful reviewers WolFang1011, Candle in the Night, XZanayu, and Asilyessam - you guys are the best! Special thanks also to new reviewer Larissa Gates - glad you found the story and like it!

GIFT FIC TO 200TH REVIEWER - PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Disclaimer: Bioware owns their original content and characters and I own the rest of the story.

Chapter 50: Why Me?

Aedan headed up to the Arl's study alone after their return from the alienage. Leliana had asked if she could take some of the others with her to go look for Marjolaine, as there were still a few hours before dark, and Aedan had agreed, so she had left along with Ayla, Alistair, Zevran, Oghren, and Wynne. Morrigan and Sten had declined to go, as had Aedan himself.

He'd wanted to go help Leliana with her search, as he'd felt he owed it to the bard after all she'd done for him and Alistair, but he knew he needed to report what had happened in the alienage to the Arl, and more importantly, to Anora. He didn't want to have to be the one to tell Anora of yet another one of the appalling things her father had done, but he had little choice in the matter.

He should have been pleased to get such evidence against Loghain, to get the final piece that they needed for the Landsmeet, but he only felt tired. He was just getting so weary of hearing all the things that Loghain, the man he and everyone else had once admired, had done, and wondering how he could betray all of his countrymen so thoroughly. Indeed, how he could disappoint his daughter so thoroughly, and endanger her so readily, leaving Aedan to be the one to have to explain to her what had to happen.

Loghain had to face justice for all that he'd done, and Aedan wasn't about to take it easy on him, even if he was Anora's father. This meant that his discussion with Anora tonight would involve explaining to her why her father had to die, and it wasn't something he was looking forward to at all. Yet he could see no alternative; Loghain could not be allowed to live after all of the things he'd done, and how could he deny Alistair the vengeance he deserved, after Alistair had helped him with Howe without question?

So, he was dreading his upcoming talk with Anora, and had decided to visit Eamon first, putting off visiting Anora for as long as possible. He reached Eamon's study, and finding the door open, entered after a brief knock.

"Ah, there you are." Eamon smiled as he looked up from some paperwork on his desk, spotting Aedan immediately as he entered. "I was about to send out a search party. I've been hearing of a great commotion in the alienage. What exactly happened there?"

Aedan shook his head, hesitating for a moment before finally replying, "We discovered that Loghain was collaborating with Tevinter slavers. They were taking advantage of a plague in the alienage to set up a 'quarantine' to heal it, while they spirited away as many healthy elves as they could to sell. They were doing so with Loghain's express permission, so that they had no fear of any guards or authorities coming to stop them. Until we got there, anyway," he added with a touch of grim satisfaction. At least he could be glad that the slavers had been sent packing in the end, those that had still been alive, anyway.

Eamon stared at him for a moment, eyes wide in surprise. "Maker forgive me," he said at last. "I should be appalled that such a thing could exist here, but I'm overjoyed you can implicate Loghain. We must end the civil war quickly. What the Blight does not corrupt in this land, politics surely will. The last of our allies have arrived in the city and we cannot delay any longer; I will call for the Landsmeet to convene in the morning."

"What?" Aedan was shocked, and not pleasantly so. He'd thought that they had at least a few more days. "You said that the Landsmeet wouldn't be until the end of the week!"

"I had originally expected some of our allies to take longer to get here," Eamon explained, "and was merely waiting on their arrival. However, they reached Denerim today while you were at the alienage. I do not think there is any point in waiting longer, do you?"

"Well , no, I . . . suppose not," Aedan answered reluctantly. He'd expected to have more time with Morrigan before he had to tell her that he was going to marry Anora. But now, he would have to tell her tonight, for he could not allow her to find out at the Landsmeet along with the rest of Ferelden. That meant he had two difficult conversations to look forward to tonight, and wasn't that just perfect?

"If that is all, then, I have much to do tonight." Eamon turned his attention back to his desk, looking up briefly to say, "I will go ahead first thing in the morning. You come along as soon as you are able to, and bring Alistair with you."

"Yes, of course, my lord," Aedan responded automatically, turning towards the door. His mind was so full of all that he still had to do tonight that he didn't even notice someone else was coming in the door before he'd ran right into them.

"Maker, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention –" he began, before getting a good look at who it was; an older, dark-haired man with a beard, dressed in rogue's leathers. "Wait, aren't you the Warden we found in Howe's dungeon? Riordan, wasn't it?"

"Yes, that's right," Riordan nodded his head, smiling at him. "I had just come to thank the Arl for his hospitality in allowing me to stay here while I recover. You are looking no worse for the wear after your stay in Fort Drakon, it would appear."

"Oh, you heard about that. Yes, it was a brief stay, and my healer has taken excellent care of me. What are your plans now?" Aedan asked, curious as to what the senior Warden intended to do now that he was free.

"When I'm well enough, I'm going to continue my journey towards Ostagar," Riordan answered. "Hopefully, I will be able to trace the heart of the Blight and where the archdemon itself abides. If we want to defeat this archdemon, we need to know where it is and how soon it might strike."

"That's a good point," Aedan admitted. Personally, if he never saw the archdemon again, he would be more than happy, but he knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. "We did see it down in the Deep Roads a couple of months ago, but it was heading for the surface, then. I don't know if it was going to Ostagar or not." He frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Wait, you're going alone? Shouldn't Alistair and I go with you?"

Riordan shrugged. "If there were more of us, I would agree. But as it is, I don't think we can deprive all the armies you've gathered of a commander, and there is much that needs to be done here as well, is there not? I don't believe it would be wise to take the two of you away. I will send word when I find something."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. We do have much to do here." Aedan slipped past Riordan in the doorway, nodding at him as the senior Warden entered the Arl's study. "With that in mind, I should get going."

"Good luck to you, then," Riordan nodded at him, and was about to turn away before he hesitated and looked back at Aedan. "We will have to talk again when the Landsmeet is more settled." His voice sounded heavy, almost reluctant, on the last words.

Aedan frowned, wondering what the older man was so reluctant to talk about right now, but he'd already closed the door to the Arl's study behind him. Well, no matter, Aedan thought. He'd find out later.

He continued on down the hallway from Eamon's study towards Anora's room, though he was still less than eager to talk to her. He knocked on the door and entered when he heard her call permission.

"Oh, Aedan, it's you," she smiled warmly from her seat on one of the chairs in her room, gesturing for him to take the other one, which he did. "You are back from the alienage, then? What news do you bring?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid." Aedan proceeded to tell her what he'd just told the Arl, even showing her the papers he'd taken from the Tevinter mage so that there could be no doubt.

"I – I knew that my father had done something to upset the alienage, but this – I – I do not know what to say." Anora shook her head in disbelief. "I had not thought that he could stoop any lower, but . . . slavery?"

"I'm sorry, Anora," Aedan said quietly, watching as she set the papers down on the table as though they might bite. "I wish I could have brought you better news."

"No, Aedan, it is not your fault. You merely found what I asked you to find." Anora sighed. "At the very least, I suppose it means we have all that we could need for the Landsmeet."

"Yes, Arl Eamon is calling the Landsmeet together for tomorrow morning, now. Will you be ready?" He watched her closely, looking for any sign that she regretted the path she'd set herself on, but he found none.

"Yes," she replied firmly. "I will be ready to confront my father, and do what must be done."

"About that . . ." Aedan began reluctantly. "I did have something I wished to discuss with you before the Landsmeet, about your father."

She tilted her head, studying him, her expression carefully guarded. "What might that be?"

Where to begin? "I am sure you are already aware of this," he said carefully, "but he must be made to face justice for all that he has done. I am reluctant to say this, as he is your father, but I cannot be lenient with him. Especially when I cannot help but think that he set Howe upon my father to get him out of the way, as he tried to do with Arl Eamon. Howe was too much of a coward to do something like that without an assurance that he wouldn't face the consequences for it."

Anora was staring at him, wide-eyed, her hand over her mouth, shock printed very clearly on her face. "You cannot believe that he would do that!"

"Can't I?" Aedan asked quietly. "I do not think he knew the extent of what Howe planned to do, but I am certain he would have wanted my father out of the way, for my father would be opposing him, just as Eamon is. I have heard rumours that Cailan was being pressured to set you aside, and I do not doubt that your father would have wanted him out of the way before he could do that. I am certain he had a better plan than leaving him behind on the battlefield, but his hand must have been forced when the darkspawn attacked in such numbers. But Eamon was poisoned – and my father killed – before Ostagar, which means it had all been planned for some time. And your father was the one who took the maleficar from Chantry justice and asked him to poison Eamon. He was also the one who hired assassins to come after Alistair and I. And this does not even include declaring war on his countrymen during the Blight, selling the elves into slavery, and imprisoning and torturing people merely for trying to tell their sides of what happened at Ostagar. After all of that, I cannot withhold justice, not even for you."

"I do see your point," she admitted quietly, her eyes downcast as she twisted her hands together. "I was not . . . fully aware of all that he had done. But . . . you are talking execution, are you not?"

He couldn't bring himself to lie to her, so he merely nodded. "I am."

There were tears slowly pooling in her eyes as she finally looked up at him. "Aedan . . . he is my father."

He sighed, scrubbing his hands through his hair. He was so tired, but this had to be done, and he was the only one who could convince her. "I know that, and I am sorry. But he cannot be seen to be above the law. Do you think he would not have had Alistair and I executed for treason, had we not escaped from Fort Drakon?" When she did not reply immediately, he went on, "I do not take any pleasure in the thought, but I have no choice. I just . . . wanted you to be prepared."

"Very well," she said at last, nodding slowly. "I see that there is truth in what you say. However, if you are the one to deliver the sentence . . . I am not certain that . . . I could ever look at you the same."

"I don't intend to be the one to carry it out," he answered her quietly. "The blood right is Alistair's."

"For Cailan, you mean? He didn't even know him!" she protested.

He shook his head. "Not for Cailan. Or, not only for Cailan. For the Wardens. Duncan was more of a father to Alistair than Maric ever was, and the other Wardens were more his brothers than Cailan. All those Wardens who died on that battlefield with Cailan; they're the ones that deserve justice, especially when their names have been slandered following their sacrifice. I will not proceed, however, if you do not agree. But I am not certain the Landsmeet will accept any less, once they hear everything he's done."

"I suppose you are right." Her tone was very flat and her expression carefully guarded as she finally said, "Very well. I will . . . always be my father's daughter, but I know he must be made to pay for his crimes." Her voice began to waver on the last few words, and she ducked her head, once again not meeting his eyes.

Aedan wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but after he'd been the one to force her to agree, he knew that his presence would be of no help to her right now; that she would want him to leave so that she could grieve in private, so he nodded formally at her before he got up and headed for the door. "I will see you in the morning," he said quietly as he left. "And I am sorry, Anora."

"I know you are, Aedan," came her soft reply as the door closed behind him, making him feel guiltier than ever. There was no love lost between him and Loghain, but he was Anora's father, and that made the whole situation so much more difficult than it otherwise would have been. Still, Anora had agreed, and that was the important part, he reminded himself. And he'd done his duty; he hadn't blindsided her with it at the Landsmeet. He'd done all that he possibly could. Now, it was time to talk to Morrigan.

He went back to his room, intending to change out of his armor before visiting Morrigan, but was startled to see her waiting in his room for him, standing before the fireplace that his room boasted. She turned when he came in, her face unreadable. "So there are to be wedding bells? Did I hear this correctly?"

Maker's balls! How had Morrigan even heard about it? Nobody should know except him and Anora! He hadn't even told Alistair yet! "How did you –" he began, shocked.

"I overheard her speaking about it with that maid of hers," Morrigan interrupted, her tone frosty as she stared at him. "Did you intend upon telling me?"

"Of course I did!" he protested, scrambling to explain. He'd expected to have a few more minutes to decide on what he was going to say; he hadn't planned on her confronting him so suddenly. "I had just – I wanted a few more days with you without that hanging between us, but I was going to tell you before the Landsmeet, I swear. Now the Landsmeet has been moved to tomorrow, so I was actually on my way to come tell you. But . . . it's purely a political arrangement, Morrigan. I did tell you that I would have to marry for politics, but that does not mean that I have any sort of feelings for Anora."

"Is that so?" she raised her eyebrows at him, her tone clearly disbelieving. "The two of you seem remarkably friendly with one another."

"Because we are friends," he told her, exasperated. How many times did he have to tell her that she was the only one he loved? "I've known her since we were children. That's why it made the most sense; she's already the queen and we've actually met and spent time with one another. It was the most logical and advantageous match I could make."

She studied him, her golden gaze unreadable, keeping her emotions carefully concealed. "Is this why you asked me if I would stay with you? So that you could go straight to her if I refused you?"

"Well, yes," he admitted, holding up his hand and continuing hastily before she had a chance to say anything else, "but only because I needed to know before I made my plans with her, whether I would be reclaiming Highever with you by my side, or if I would need to arrange a marriage because you had refused me. And if you did, Anora is the only arranged marriage I felt I could even consider, because at least I know her. I know that we can get along, and that's all. I needed to know, and I didn't have much time to figure it out, or I wouldn't have pushed you. I am sorry, Morrigan. But I do love you, and I will not break my vow to you, I swear it."

After a long moment in which he held his breath, praying, she finally nodded. "I understand. I did refuse you, and I did agree to be your mistress while you married another. I cannot fault you for seeking out the most power that you could obtain. I suppose . . . I am simply curious as to what your bride-to-be might think. Of me. Of us."

Aedan sighed heavily. He was relieved that Morrigan did not seem overly upset, but he couldn't help but feel as though he was still treading carefully amidst traps. "She doesn't know about us, and I do not intend to tell her. She would not have agreed to the arrangement if she suspected that I love another. So . . . I am hoping that you are willing to keep our agreement, and to keep it secret from anyone who might tell her. I know it's a lot to ask, Morrigan, and I'm sorry for being so selfish, but . . . I don't know what else to do."

"I had suspected all along that we would need to keep our agreement a secret. I am not ignorant of such matters, after all. I will do as you ask, then, and not allow her to find out. I would not worry on it. Things have a way of working themselves out, yes?" She smiled, but it was an unusual smile; he couldn't quite interpret whether she was truly pleased or not. But, she had agreed, and he didn't want to push his luck any more than he'd already had to.

"Thank you," he told her sincerely. Unable to help himself any longer, since she looked so damn beautiful standing there, and he needed her badly, he closed the distance between them, reaching for her where she stood at the fireplace. She evaded his grip, slipping past him gracefully towards the door. He turned to watch her go, suddenly and inexplicably crushed. "Do you not want to stay here tonight?" She'd stayed in his room every night they'd been here so far.

"I find I am weary, and I have much to think about," she replied evasively, looking towards the door. "I believe I would prefer to be alone for tonight."

Before he could say another word in protest or move to stop her, she'd slipped out the door. "Morrigan, you –" he went to hurry after her, deciding that she must still be upset with him, but by the time he'd reached the door, she was well on her way down the hallway already. Suddenly realizing how it would look if he chased her through the Arl's estate, he growled in frustration and slammed his fist against the wall. It looked like he would be sleeping alone tonight.

He started stripping his armor off, flinging it into the corner piece by piece in his irritation. By the time he'd gotten it all off, so that he was only in his cotton undergarments, he decided he was badly in need of a drink. There was no point being in his bed if it was going to be empty, after all. With that in mind, he left the room to go find himself some wine.

"This must be where Marjolaine is," Leliana said uncertainly, stopped in front of an unimposing wooden house on the side streets of Denerim. The house sported peeling grey paint and damaged red shutters. "It matches the description and the location on the information we were given."

"Shall we go in, then?" Ayla prompted softly. She was standing next to Leliana at the door, while Alistair and the others were just behind them in the street.

"I . . .yes. I suppose it is best to get it over with." Leliana knocked hesitantly on the door. After a moment, it was opened by a large man in heavy plate armor sporting a warhammer on his back. He looked down at Leliana, then after a moment, grunted and stepped aside, gesturing that they should go in.

"It looks like it's a good thing we brought the others along," Alistair muttered. "I was thinking about letting you go in there with her alone, but there's no way I'm going to now."

Ayla smiled at him; his concern for her was sweet, if still a little irritating. As if she couldn't take care of that big brute herself. "So protective," she teased. "Come on then." She gestured for him to follow as she slipped through the door behind Leliana.

They passed through the small wooden entryway and into another room, much larger than Ayla had expected, given the size of the house. A fireplace was against the opposite wall, the smoke that came from it nearly choking the room, and there were tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. There were two more doors to the left and right leading to other areas of the house. A slender, dark-haired woman in a tight-fitting gown of brocade and lace, colored in blue and gold, turned to greet them as they entered. "Leliana!" She exclaimed in a heavily accented tone, smiling brightly. "Ah, so lovely to see you again, my dear."

Leliana scowled as they all stopped in front of the woman, the large guard going to stand by one of the doorways. "Spare me the pleasantries," Leliana snapped, "I know you're –"

"Oh, you must excuse the shabby accommodations," the woman drawled, interrupting whatever Leliana had been about to say. "I try to be a good host, but you see what I have to work with? This country smells like wet dog. Everywhere. I cannot get the smell out. Even now it is in my hair, my clothes . . . ugh."

"Wait until she comes across the darkspawn," Alistair muttered from behind Ayla, making her smother a laugh as she watched the woman prattle emptily on. This Marjolaine made her skin crawl; absolutely nothing about the woman seemed genuine to her.

"Look," Ayla interrupted when Marjolaine didn't seem inclined to stop talking anytime soon, "we're not here to talk about how much you don't like Ferelden. Why did you send assassins after Leliana?"

Marjolaine tutted as she looked over at Leliana. "So business-like, your companion."

Halting the woman's conversation seemed to have focused Leliana. She glared at Marjolaine, planting her hands on her hips. "You framed me, had me caught and tortured. I thought that in Ferelden, I would be free of you, but it seems I am not. What happened to make you hate me so? Why do you want me dead so badly?"

"Dead?" Marjolaine exclaimed, sounding appalled, though the note rang just a bit false. "Nonsense. I know you, my Leliana. I know what you are capable of. Four, five men," she shrugged as though to say it was a paltry number, "you can dispatch easily. They were sent to give you cause to come to me. And see? Here you are."

"And we're just supposed to take your word for it that you weren't trying to kill her?" Ayla demanded. The more the woman talked, the more her instincts clamored at her, telling her that this woman couldn't be trusted and was dangerous.

Leliana shook her head, not waiting for a reply from the other bard, her voice ringing with anger as she addressed her. "You are so transparent. What are you up to, Marjolaine? Why are you in Ferelden?"

"In truth?" Marjolaine asked, and suddenly the falsely jovial tone was gone. "You have knowledge that you can use against me. For my own safety, I cannot let you be. Did you think I did not know where you were? Did you think I would not watch my Leliana?" She began to pace back and forth in front of them as she talked, waving her hands for emphasis. "'What is she up to?' I thought. 'The quiet life, the peasant clothes, hair ragged and messy like a boy . . . this is not her.' You were planning something, I told myself. So I watched . . . but no letters were sent. No messages. You barely spoke to anyone. Clever, Leliana, very clever. You almost had me fooled. But then you left the Chantry, so suddenly. What conclusion should I draw? You tell me." The woman shrugged, as if the conclusion was perfectly obvious.

"She left to help us," Ayla snapped, annoyed. Why were they even still talking to this woman? She looked over at Leliana, hoping she was done listening, but the bard's focus was still on Marjolaine.

"You think I left because of you?" Leliana was exclaiming in disbelief. "You think I still have some plan for . . . for revenge? You are insane! Paranoid!"

"The Blight is what concerns Leliana now. She is helping us Wardens fight the darkspawn," Alistair added, coming up next to Ayla. She could feel his tension as he glanced over at the guard by the door to the left, then swiftly looked over at the door to the right. "Two mages," he breathed out so quietly that only she would be able to hear, and she frowned. Perhaps this wouldn't be as easy as they'd hoped.

"Oh, is that what you think?" Marjolaine scoffed, her tone derisive. "If I were you, I would believe nothing she says. Not a one. She will use you. You look at her and you see a simple girl – a friend, trusting and warm. It is an act."

"I am not you, Marjolaine," Leliana replied indignantly. "I left because I didn't want to become you."

"Oh, but you are me," the other bard said tauntingly. "You cannot escape it. No one will understand you the way I do, because we are one and the same. Do you know why you were a master manipulator, Leliana? It is because you enjoyed the game; you reveled in the power it gave you. You cannot change or deny this."

"You're the one that's lying with every word out of your mouth," Ayla stated coolly. "Leliana, though, I know we can trust her." Leliana had never given her instincts cause for alarm; she trusted her wholeheartedly.

"Thank you." Leliana cast a brief smile in her direction before turning to Marjolaine. "You will not threaten me or my friends again, Marjolaine. I want you out of my life, forever."

Ayla shook her head, telling Leliana in a low voice, "You can't let her get away with what she did. She'll do it all over again, I can tell you that now. She can't be trusted."

Leliana nodded, slowly, reluctantly, before she began reaching for her bow. "You've caused too much pain for too many, Marjolaine. It ends here."

"And you think you can kill me, like that?" Marjolaine sneered, gesturing to the guard by the door. He darted into the room behind him as she continued, "I made you, Leliana. I can destroy you just as easily."

"I can end this fast," Ayla muttered to Leliana, nodding at Marjolaine, ready to shift as the other party members drew their weapons and spread out. The guard returned just then, tossing a bow and a quiver of arrows to the other woman.

"No, leave her to me." Leliana's face was set as she drew her bow, and suddenly, the room was full to bursting as two mages came out of the doors on either side, along with another large warrior wielding a greatsword.

Oghren raced forward to meet that warrior, while Leliana began firing arrows at Marjolaine, who nimbly dodged them as she returned fire. Alistair had neutralized one of the mages even as he'd raced towards the other warrior, so Ayla followed him, slipping around the man as Alistair met him head on to go after the mage behind him. Meanwhile, Wynne was casting magic at the mage on the right side of the room, keeping him busy while Zevran went to finish him off.

Alistair's neutralization only lasted a short time; Ayla had only just gotten around the warrior when she felt the charge in the air and dove to the side, narrowly missing a blast of lightning. She came up throwing a dagger, however, and heard the satisfying grunt that signified she'd hit her target. She closed on the mage just as the magic was gathering around the end of his staff. Panicked, he tried to block her with his staff as she swung at him with one sword. Though he succeeded, her second sword slipped under the staff and straight through his stomach. The mage cried out and fell backwards; she delivered the finishing blow mercilessly before turning to check on the others.

Zevran had taken his mage down in much the same fashion with Wynne's help; Oghren was knocking the legs out from his warrior with a swing of his greataxe even as she looked, while Alistair's warrior was down on the ground, with Alistair slipping his sword through the man's neck. Leliana was fighting Marjolaine hand-to-hand with daggers, now, both women moving with incredible speed. Just as Ayla looked, however, Marjolaine slipped slightly on a patch of ice left on the floor from Wynne's magic, and it was just enough to give Leliana the advantage. Marjolaine's sudden cry was ruthlessly silenced by both of Leliana's daggers before the treacherous woman hit the floor.

Ayla made her way over to Leliana; her friend was standing over the other bard's body, her daggers hanging loose in her hands as she stared down at the blood pooling around Marjolaine. "It's over. She's dead. She's dead because of me."

"No, "Ayla said firmly, causing Leliana to look up at her. "She's dead because of her. If she had left well enough alone, you wouldn't have had to do this."

Leliana nodded jerkily, cleaning off her daggers before tucking them away. "I . . . I need some time to myself. We will talk later. We should return to the Arl's estate now."

Ayla nodded as Leliana headed for the door in a daze. She gestured to the others to follow, and after sheathing their weapons, everyone began making their way to the door.

"We just gonna leave all this mess here?" Oghren demanded as they reached the door, pointing behind them.

"We'll let Sergeant Kylon know," Alistair said quietly as they all trooped out of the house behind Leliana. "He'll take care of it."

"Good," the dwarf declared. "Well, if we're all done here, maybe I should head to that Pearl place again for the night."

"Oh, no you don't," Wynne scolded him, shaking her finger at him as they walked. "I will not heal your headaches two days in a row because you are unable to control yourself. You can return with the rest of us."

"Ah, my fine dwarven friend, you should not take advantage of our lovely mage's healing skills simply because you cannot hold your drink," Zev drawled teasingly.

"Who asked you, elf?" Oghren growled, shaking his fist at Zevran. "And I can so hold my sodding drink! Better than you can, you nug-humper!"

Alistair groaned, shaking his head. "Can we just get back to the Arl's? It's getting late." As they were making their way down the street, they passed one of the city guard, and Alistair quickly stopped the man to have him send a message to Kylon, while Zevran and Oghren continued to bicker merrily.

After he was finished, Alistair caught up to Ayla where she was walking several feet behind Leliana, listening to the argument behind her with amusement, while Wynne shook her head and ignored the two of them. "So," he said, smiling down at her, "with your sensitive nose, do you think Ferelden smells like wet dog?"

She shook her head, grinning back at him. "Not that I've noticed; for the most part, it smells pretty good." She tipped her head thoughtfully, studying him. "Have I ever told you that I love the way you smell?"

"Me?" He looked startled, raising an arm to experimentally sniff at himself before he wrinkled his nose. "Don't I smell like - I don't know, darkspawn blood and guts and sweat most of the time? That can't be a good smell."

Ayla shrugged, smiling. "Sometimes you do, but only on the surface. Underneath, you smell like pine and just . . .you. And sometimes," she sidled up next to him to whisper, "you smell like me. I like that the best."

"Oh?" His voice was a low rumble, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. "Well, I am yours, after all. Do I smell like you now?"

She shook her head. "No, but we can fix that when we get back." She gave him a slow, wicked smile, watching him swallow.

"Then you'd better hurry up," he growled, and she grinned, picking up her pace as they made their way back to the Arl's. She couldn't wait to get Alistair alone; she wanted to take advantage of every night she could possibly spend with him. She spotted Leliana ahead of them again as she got closer, the bard's shoulders slumped as she hurried along, and sighed. She had helped her friend as promised, but she knew that wasn't the end of it. When Leliana was ready to talk, she would be waiting; she still owed her much, after all. For now, however, she would give the bard time and space to think about what had happened today, as she had asked. Later, there would be time enough to talk to her when she needed it.

Alistair made his way down to the kitchens, yawning. After they'd returned from helping Leliana, he and Ayla had gone straight up to his room. He'd fully intended to eat at some point, but after the way she'd riled him up on the walk back, they'd never made it back out again. With both of their passions running high, he'd tossed her onto the bed and eventually, she had flipped him over, riding him fast and wild until they'd both slipped over the edge, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs.

It was one of his favourite ways to make love with her, he had to admit. He loved watching the graceful lines of her body and the way her breasts moved as she rode him; the way he could see and reach all of her so easily. Just thinking about it almost made him forget about the food and go back to wake her up, but then his stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him of why he'd woken up in the middle of the night in the first place.

He'd eat first, he decided, slipping through the door into the kitchens, and then he'd go back and see if she was awake. He found some cheese, bread and dried meat easily enough, and went to the dining room to find somewhere to sit. He was surprised to see a lantern burning on the table already when he entered; he was even more surprised to see Aedan sitting there with his back to him, a bottle of wine in one hand with a half-empty glass in front of him.

"Hey, brother," he slurred as he turned and saw Alistair in the doorway. "Come have a drink!" He waved the bottle in one hand for emphasis.

"Aedan, what are you doing up still?" Alistair tried to recall when he'd ever seen Aedan actually drink more than one ale, and couldn't think of a single instance as he circled the table, setting his food down across from his fellow Warden before sitting in the chair opposite. He noticed two more empty wine bottles lying on the table, and wondered just how drunk Aedan was.

"Drinking this very fine bottle of wine, of course. It's terrific stuff. Here!" He filled up the glass to the rim and shoved it across the table to Alistair, spilling a good deal in the process.

"I can see that," Alistair said dryly, ignoring the glass in favour of his food, "but why are you drinking? The Landsmeet is tomorrow morning now, isn't it?" One of the servants had informed them of the change the minute they'd returned to the estate, and though it was a lot sooner than Alistair had been expecting, at least that meant it would be over soon.

"It is, and that –" Aedan hiccupped – "is exactly why I'm drinking! Anora hates me, 'cause even though we're going to get married, I won't spare her father, and Morrigan hates me 'cause I'm getting married. It was a good plan, Alistair, why doesn't anybody like it?"

"You what?!" Alistair wondered if he'd heard right as he stared at Aedan in shock. Aedan hadn't yet told him everything he'd talked about with Anora and the Arl, since they'd had little time to discuss things, but he certainly hadn't expected to hear that Aedan was going to marry Anora, of all things. "But you love Morrigan!"

"'Course I do." Aedan took a long, messy drink straight from the bottle, wiping his mouth off before confiding, "I asked her to marry me first, y'know. She won't do it 'cause I won't leave the court. Doesn't want to be a nobleman's wife, she says. And I wouldn't leave with her. I want to change things, be somebody, and have – y'know –" he waved his hand vaguely – "power. So I asked Anora to marry me. Wanted to be the king." He stared sadly at the bottle for a long moment. "Kind of wish I wasn't ambitious. Then I could've left with her. Wouldn't have had to ask her to be my mistress."

"You know, you could always change your mind," Alistair suggested quietly. "You don't have to marry Anora if that's not what you want." He was surprised to hear this all come tumbling out of Aedan; he would never have suspected his Warden brother held such ambition.

"No, but I do - I want to. I want to be the leader, the King or Teyrn or . . . whatever I can get," Aedan mumbled, sloshing the wine around in the bottle. "I was always jealous of my brother, y'know. Fergus. I begged my father to teach me everything he taught him. I told him I wanted to help Fergus, but really, I wanted to be Fergus. Then I got my wish - - my brother died, and I was the heir." He laughed bitterly, his eyes glazed and far away as if he was seeing something else.

How much does he keep bottled up inside? Alistair wondered incredulously, aching for the pain and bitterness in Aedan's voice. He didn't know how to help him, though. What could he possibly do to make anything better? "He might still be alive," Alistair offered tentatively, remembering that Fergus had not been at Highever with the others but rather out scouting the Wilds. It was unlikely he'd survived, but no one had officially declared him dead, after all.

"He's dead, Alistair, you know he is! He's dead and I'm still alive!" Aedan slammed his fist down on the table, rocking the wine bottles.

"That's not your fault," Alistair protested. Maker, he wished he knew how to comfort people in these sorts of situations.

"No." Aedan shook his head, the anger gone as suddenly as it had appeared. "Not my fault." He fixed Alistair with an intense stare. "But why? Why should I get to be alive still? Why me? Why do I get to keep avoiding death, when none of my family could?"

"I wish I knew," Alistair muttered, thinking of the Wardens. It was the exact question he'd asked himself so many times, why he'd survived when everyone else had died on that battlefield. He still didn't know the answer, but he wouldn't let himself think he should have died with them, not any longer. He had promised Ayla, after all. "Maybe it's fate. But if it makes you feel any better, the taint will get you eventually anyway," he added wryly, wincing when he realized his customary sarcasm might not have been the best way to go; but fortunately, Aedan didn't look offended.

"Y'know, you're right!" Aedan exclaimed, pointing at him. "I'm a Warden, so I can go die down in the Deep Roads later. Thanks, Alistair!" He took another swig from the bottle.

"You're welcome?" Alistair replied uncertainly. He was having a little trouble keeping up with a drunken Aedan's mood swings, he had to admit. But still, he wanted to say something to make him feel better, even if Aedan might not get it all right now. "I'll support you, whatever you want to do, you know. I've followed you for months now, and you've never led us wrong. So if you want to be the King, be the King. If you want to stay with the Wardens, be the Warden Commander. If you want to leave and go travelling with Morrigan, then go. I've got your back, no matter what, brother."

"Thanks," Aedan said quietly, and his eyes suddenly looked the clearest they had been as he met Alistair's gaze. "But . . . this is what I want – or the closest thing I can get, I think. Morrigan said she'd be my mistress – unless she changed her mind. I just . . . I don't know . . . needed to talk about it?" He frowned, a strange expression crossing his face as he set the bottle down and laid his head on the table. "I don't feel so good, Alistair."

"Come on." Alistair got up and went over to him, pulling Aedan to his feet. "You need to rest. Let's get you up to your room."

"Don't want to," Aedan protested weakly, though he allowed Alistair to pull his arm over his shoulder before he began walking him out of the dining room towards the stairs. It was a little difficult, with Aedan weaving everywhere and barely sporting his own weight, but somehow Alistair managed to steer him in the right direction. "My bed is empty. She hates me."

Alistair couldn't blame him for not wanting to go back to his room. Maker forbid, if he ever had a fight with Ayla and she left him to sleep alone, he'd be drowning himself in a bottle of wine, too. But he wouldn't leave Aedan alone down here to drink himself completely sick, any more than Aedan would leave him. "No, she doesn't," he reassured Aedan. "She's just thinking things through; they both are. You'll be yourself in the morning, and you'll talk them both around like you always do. You'll see. But you need to sleep so you can do that."

"You think so? Really?" Aedan asked hopefully as Alistair dragged him up the stairs to his room.

"I know so," Alistair promised, though of course he wasn't really sure. But he knew it was what Aedan needed to hear right now. "It is a good plan, they'll like it in the end, I'm sure."

They finally made it into Aedan's room, and Alistair heaved him onto the bed. "Get some sleep," he advised. "And I'll get Wynne to come by in the morning, heal that massive headache you're going to have. We'll figure it out; we always do."

"I can't have my perfect happy ending," Aedan mumbled as he rolled over on the bed before looking up at Alistair. "But I can give you yours, brother, and I will."

"Thanks, Aedan," Alistair said softly, surprised and touched at his fellow Warden's promise. "Anything I can do to get you what you want, just let me know, and I will. Good night," he added, before he left the room and closed the door.

He wondered, as he headed back to his own room, how much Aedan would remember the next morning. It was obvious that he would have to watch him more closely, and make sure Aedan had help when he needed it. He took too much on his own shoulders, and bottled things up too much. Alistair promised himself that from now on, he would do whatever he could to lighten that burden for his brother. And they clearly had much to discuss once Aedan was sober again; he would have to talk to him before they left for the Landsmeet in the morning. He just hoped that he'd been right when he told Aedan it would all work out.