With thanks to my beta reader, WellspringCD, especially or the super-fast turnaround on this chapter. Thank you to all who read, and especially to those who comment; your continued support keeps me writing.

Fearghal lay on his back, in the dark. The soft sound of Alistair's steady breathing indicated his companion was asleep. Fearghal felt restless but didn't want to fidget, in case he disturbed Alistair. Instead, he steeled himself to stay still, the one thought whirling around in his head; the one that denied him sleep. Did Teagan ever bring Rory here? Did he sleep in this bed? The yearning for Rory was so strong, it made Fearghal's jaw ache, clenched tightly against the sobs that threatened. He missed him so much, it was a physical pain.

Alistair stirred and Fearghal held his breath, until the even rhythm of Alistair's breathing resumed. It seemed the supreme irony to be sleeping in this bed with a man, yet feel so alone. Fearghal turned his head. In the dim light he could just make out the shape of Alistair, laying on his side with his back to Fearghal. He could feel the heat radiating from his fellow-warden, almost calling to him. Fearghal resisted the urge to huddle against that broad back, to press himself against it, to draw some comfort just from being that close to another body. In the dark, maybe he could pretend it was Rory.

Fearghal sighed and turned over, so that his back was to Alistair. Rory's dead. Pretending someone else is him doesn't make it any less true. He took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind. He needed something to send himself to sleep. He smiled as he remembered struggling to stay awake memorizing all the names of the villages in Highever and who their reeves were. Happy Days. Hampole... Thomas Wentworth; Pickburn... Ned Breckon; Stairfoot... Matthew Lockwood; Micklebring...Finn Caw; Skellow...Dickon Crum; Gillsland... Donal Lyall; Callaly... Cam Merrick; Rowfoot... Massey Bloom; Pegswood...

~o~O~o~

Fearghal and Alistair headed back towards the market district; the barman in the Gnawed Noble had told them that Brother Genitivi lived just down the lane. Fearghal had decided that Zevran and Leliana should check out Teyrn Loghain's estate. While it was likely that, as regent, he had moved into the palace, it was possible that he'd left the antidote in his estate. Fearghal had reasoned that he might not want to move anything incriminating into the palace; plus, if the teyrn wasn't actually in residence, security might be lighter.

Alistair was surprised when they entered the market place and Fearghal beckoned an urchin over. He murmured to the boy, who turned and pointed at fat man loitering in a shady corner of the market square.

Fearghal flipped the boy a groat and turned back to Alistair. "I need to go and see a man about a dog. I won't be long. Wait here with the laundry, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Alistair watched Fearghal absently as he approached the fat man.

"Slim Couldry?" asked Fearghal softly.

"Depends on who's asking," said the man, eyeing Fearghal up and down.

"I'm a friend of Ned Bennet, the name's Fearghal," he murmured.

The fat man's eyes went wide and a broad grin split his face. He held his hand out. "It's good to see you, ser." Slim Couldry shook Fearghal's hand firmly, then his face clouded. "That was a right bad do up there, ser. I was right sorry to hear of it."

Fearghal nodded stiffly. "Thank you. Have you heard from Bennet?"

The fat man nodded and looked around to make sure they couldn't be overheard. He jerked his head at Alistair. "He's wi' you?" At Fearghal's nod, he continued. "You 'eard what they're sayin'? 'Bout your family, I mean."

A muscle twitched in Fearghal's jaw. "I heard they've been attainted."

"That bastard Howe... " Couldry paused to turn his head and spit, "Arl of Amaranthine, then Denerim and now Teyrn o' Highever and all. How many titles does one man need?"

"Loghain's made him teyrn?" Fearghal's face darkened.

"Right enough, he has. That bastard's swanning around Denerim like he owns the place... which I suppose 'e does now."

"So, what news from Bennet?" asked Fearghal, again, trying not to show his impatience.

"Him and a few mates are busy making life difficult for the new... incumbent. He also told me that Howe's moving silver bullion from Highever to Denerim. His pal, Loghain, 'aving mislaid half his army at Ostagar, needs the funds to pay for a new 'un. That arse-licker's stripping Highever of anything that's not nailed down and sending the proceeds down 'ere."

Couldry looked across at Alistair, his face thoughtful. "He looks a right handy bloke, your mate. Got any more like 'im?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"Ever since our Ned sent me word o' that bullion, I've 'ad a few... friends keeping a close eye on what's coming into the city. I know where they're storing it, but they're shifting it all tomorrow. As it is, it's not heavily guarded; I reckon they're not wantin' to draw attention to it. There's only half a dozen guards or so but they're all hard bastards. I'd have 'ad a shot at lifting it myself but my lads aren't so hot on the strong arm stuff. I reckon the rumpus would have old Kylon down on us before we could get it away."

Fearghal stared at the fat man. "Are you suggesting that... I... we... "

Couldry flushed and held his hands up. "Sorry, my lord, I didn't mean no offense. I jus' thought... "

Fearghal grinned at him. "I think that's an excellent idea!"

"Oh!" Couldry sighed with relief and grinned back at him. "Well, if you can get in there quick and quiet like, I can 'ave a few lads waiting to help load the bullion onto a cart and we can have it away in no time at all."

"What happens then?" asked Fearghal .

Slim Couldry burst out laughing. "Then we scarper! You go back to wherever you're holed up and I set about off-loading the bullion. It'll take a while but I should be able to get a decent price for it. Daren't try to shift it all at once, is all."

"How much do you think you'll get for it?"

"Hard to say, without knowing exactly how much is in there. A few hundred sovereigns at least. Nowhere near what it's worth but not an amount to be sniffed at. There would be my cut an' all; I've men to pay, palms to grease."

Fearghal eyed him warily. "How much?"

"Twenty-five percent?" suggested Couldry, swallowing nervously.

It was less than Fearghal had expected. "Fair enough. Send half of what's left to Bennet and keep the rest back for me. I don't need it right away but will do in the future. Once we leave Denerim, we likely won't be back for a while. I'll be heading to Orzammar; Maker only knows how long that's going to take."

"I've got contacts in Orzammar, that's where most of the silver will likely end up anyway. I could give you a name, so's you could... draw on some funds while you're there."

"That sounds fine. So tonight. Where and when?"

"There's an alley runs down the side of the Gnawed Noble. Be there at ten. It'll be getting rowdy at that time and should cover any noise we might make."

Fearghal held out his hand. "We'll be there." Slim Couldry shook his hand and Fearghal turned and started to walk away. He stopped suddenly. "You don't where we could get some laundry done, do you?"

Couldry pointed to a dilapidated-looking house nearby. "Try Goldanna. She's a snippy piece but she won't rob you and she does a good job. Don't say I sent you though, she 'ates me!" He turned away, laughing.

"Thanks." Fearghal turned back to Alistair. "Come on, let's go and dump the laundry."

Alistair picked up two of the bundles of laundry, leaving the others for Fearghal. "What was all that about?"

"A friend of Bennet's... well, cousin, actually. I'll tell you more later, when we get back to the others." Fearghal led the way to the house Couldry had pointed out. "He said we could get this lot done here."

Fearghal knocked at the door and pushed the door open. "Gimme a minute!" yelled a voice.

Moments later, a thin, sharp-faced woman appeared. Her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows, revealing reddened, chapped hands and forearms. She looked hot and cross and smelled of soap.

"You're Goldanna?" asked Fearghal.

"I am. You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find better." The woman's voice was sharp as her face and had a harsh note to it. "And don't trust what that Nalia woman tells you either, she's foreign and she'll rob you blind."

"We're only going to be in the city one more night. Would you be able to have these ready for tomorrow?" asked Fearghal.

Goldanna looked over the bundles. "Depends what's in 'em."

"Clothes mostly, and some blankets. Don't worry about getting the blood stains out," Fearghal told her cheerfully.

She stared at him, then nodded. "I can do 'em for tomorrow as long as you don't come by too early. Late mornin' do you?"

Fearghal gave her his most charming smile. "That would be fine, madam. And shall we say a groat per bundle, for such a prompt job?"

The woman looked startled. "Oh, that's very kind of you, ser." She picked up two of the bundles and disappeared into the back room.

Fearghal turned to the door, then realised that Alistair was staring after the woman, almost frozen to the spot. He nudged him sharply and hissed, "Alistair!"

Alistair came to with a start and followed him out of the door.

"Maker's breath, Alistair! She's just a woman, you've seen one before! Anyone would think I'd taken you to a whore house, not a wash house."

"Sorry," mumbled Alistair looking back at the house.

"Actually, talking of which... do you want to get it over and done with while we're in Denerim?"

Alistair stared blankly at Fearghal. "Eh?"

"A whore house. I just thought you might like to get shut of it, once and for all," replied Fearghal.

"Get shut of it? You mean... ?" squeaked Alistair.

"Yes," sighed Fearghal. "I mean, you don't have to, but carrying around all that virginity can be a heavy burden. All that fretting about when you're going to lose it and with who; will you be able to get it up or keep it up and, if you do, will you last longer than 10 seconds."

"What?" Alistair gazed in horror at Fearghal. "No!"

"Why not?" persisted Fearghal. "Much better to get the hang of the basics with a sympathetic whore, than save it for some woman you're mad for, who laughs you out of bed when you come all over her hand. We could go to The Pearl, find you a nice buxom wench... or a skinny one, if that's what you prefer." Fearghal stopped, frowning. It surely can't be healthy for someone to go that colour.

"What part of 'no' was unclear?" spluttered Alistair. "I don't want to even discuss it with you!"

"Maker's breath, Alistair! It was only a suggestion. There's no need to be so uptight about it."

"Uptight?" yelped Alistair. "You're suggesting that I go to a brothel and climb into bed with some random woman that I don't even know and... and... "

"Forget I mentioned it," muttered Fearghal.

"Huh! I bet that's not what you did," grumbled Alistair.

"I did actually. Well, that was my first time with a woman. Fergus took me to The Pearl when I was fifteen. I was curious to see if I'd like it any better than... well, you know."

"Fifteen! Then how old were you when you... you lost it?" Alistair could hear the words tumbling out of his mouth, but didn't seem able to stop them.

"Thirteen," said Fearghal, casually. Seeing the look of shock on Alistair's face, he felt the need to qualify. "I was just a month off my fourteenth birthday. He was a travelling smith, he came to Highever to help out our regular smith."

Alistair watched Fearghal's eyes glaze over, a small smile on his face and couldn't resist asking, "What was he like?"

"He wasn't long out of his apprenticeship, so he must have only been eighteen or nineteen, but at thirteen he seemed so... grown up. He was massive... I was still a skinny squirt, all gangly legs and two left feet. They called him Bran. He had the blackest hair I ever saw" Fearghal sighed, then frowned. "I thought we were supposed to be talking about you losing your virginity, not how I lost mine."

"I'd rather not talk about mine at all," said Alistair dryly. They'd reached the corner of the lane Genitivi's house was on. "Let's go and see if the good brother is at home."